


Slowly Breaking Through the Daylight

by Questeer



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst?, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Force-Sensitive Poe Dameron, Friendship, Jakku, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug, Pre-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Stranded
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-03-16 22:56:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13646172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Questeer/pseuds/Questeer
Summary: Poe doesn't understand what happened to him on board the Star Destroyer. Stranded on Jakku, he struggles to make sense of the new doubts and feelings in his head while trying to find a way off the planet, and trying to avoid the First Order squadron sent to hunt him down.





	1. Chapter One

There was a tree in Poe’s backyard back home on Yavin IV. When he was a kid, he used to sit under its shade with his dad while he told stories. His mom would watch him climb, sometimes sitting on the first few branches while he scaled it. He’d fallen out of it plenty of times, even broke his arm one time, but he’d never blamed the Tree.

When friends of his parents would come by, stocked with adventures that Poe would listen to with the wide eyes of awe, he’d go to the Tree and tell the stories back to it. He’d fly his toy ship around its wide trunk, and the world would fall away, leaving only the Tree and the stars as he soared. Once, while Poe was informing the Tree of one of his mother’s escapades involving Princess Leia, he was interrupted as his mother scooped him up in her arms and twirled him. He giggled with delight before frowning.

“The best part was coming up mom! The Tree was excited!”

“Was it?” Shara gave an apologetic smile before kissing his forehead. “Sorry about that, but I think you’ll like this even better.”

Poe huffed. “I don’t think so.”

“I don’t know either, if it’s one of Shara’s stories you were telling the tree.” Poe looked over at the man who had come out from the house. He wore a black robe that blended with the dark clothes beneath, a sharp contrast with the light mop of hair on his head.

“Poe,” Shara said as she set him on his feet, “this is Luke Skywalker.”

The wide eyes of awe returned, looking up at the jedi. “Are you really?”

“Nice to meet you, Poe,” Luke said as he squatted down to Poe’s level and offered a hand. Poe stared at the hand before eagerly accepting it. Luke smiled. “Gonna be as strong as your mom with a grip like that.”

“Wow,” Poe whispered. He looked up at his mom before back to Luke. “Do you want to meet the Tree?”

Luke nodded. “It would be an honor.”

Poe led Luke over, who shared a brief glance with Shara before following Poe. Sitting down only a foot away from the Tree, Poe looked over his shoulder at Luke. “You gotta sit if you wanna talk to the Tree. Like dinner.”

“Dinner?” 

Poe nodded fiercely. “Like dinner.”

“Like dinner it is then.” Luke plopped down next to Poe. He tilted his head back, looking up at the looming branches. “It’s taken really well here. I didn’t expect it to grow this fast.”

“The Tree’s really strong.” Poe said. “And sometimes it gets thirsty.”

“You take care of the Tree?” Luke asked.

Poe shook his head. “The Tree is my friend. But the Tree doesn’t need help anymore. Not since you and mom saved it.”

“Is that so?”

“Yup. The Tree says thanks for saving it too.”

“No problem at all. Do you talk to the Tree a lot, Poe?”

Poe nodded. “The Tree talks a lot too. But it uses all these funny big words, kind of reminds me of my other friend’s grandpa.”

“That’s because the Tree is very old, in a sense.” Luke looked Poe over before looking back at the Tree. “I’m glad to see it has made a friend in you and you have made a friend in it, Poe. That’s a very special connection.”

“The Tree knows I’m gonna fly someday, just like mom.” Poe smiled. “She’s already taken me up in her A-wing. I got to steer.”

“How about that,” Luke said, the corner of his lip turned up in a knowing smile that Poe couldn’t possibly understand at the time. As the jedi stood up, Luke looked down at Poe, kindness in his eyes. “It was nice to meet you, Poe. May the Force be with you.”

Poe looked up at Luke, the stories his mother told him racing through his head, and he grinned at the older man. “May the Force be with you.” Poe glanced quickly at the tree. “The Tree says bye.”

Luke gave a small wave to the tree before turning back towards Shara. Sitting beside the tree, Poe watched as Luke and Shara spoke to each other out of ear. The Tree reached out, and Poe returned his attention to his friend. 

“He’s cool, isn’t he?” Poe asked in a hush tone.

The Tree agreed that Luke Skywalker was indeed, rather cool.

Poe looked over at the two adults, and frowned when he saw neither of them. Instead, a figure in a black cloak took their place. His gloved hands were fists at his side, the dark mask staring blankly at Poe. 

Suddenly Poe’s throat became strained, pain beginning to spawn across his body. He groaned, falling to his hands and knees. He doesn’t remember when he was no longer that small child, or when he had started screaming.

“Where is it?” The voice did not seem to come from the figure, but rather the world itself. Beating against Poe, who cupped his hands over his ears.

Heat lashed at his back and inside his skull, and Poe twisted his head to see the Tree in flames. The Tree screeched, a horrible sound of pain that cracked Poe’s chest, causing him to scream with it. In the delirium of the chaos, Poe snapped towards the figure.

“Where’s the map?” Kylo Ren asked as the memory burned away around them. 

“No,” Poe huffed, yelling again at the claws digging through his head. 

“Where is it?” Each word enunciated with a vicious precision. 

The Tree crackled in the fire and groaned as the roots began to pull away from the earth.

“You,” Poe struggled to his feet as the Tree roared behind him, “you can’t have it.” 

“I will.”

A crack. Not the sight of it, Poe couldn’t see it. But he heard the echoes, the fearful snap of a crack that has cut deep through a once solid form. Poe dropped back to his knees, the pain that ran up from his toes to his head rattling him on a level Poe had never felt before. It was as if the crack he could not see had torn him in half, and parts of him spilled out that he couldn’t catch because he couldn’t see them.

“A BB-unit,” Ren murmured. “Back on Jakku.”

Poe yelled, and on shaking legs he charged at Kylo Ren. He was less than a few yards away when the Force user struck his hand out, intending to freeze Poe in his place. But, in that moment, as if its roots had wrapped around his limbs and guided them like a puppet on strings, Poe’s hand lashed out to counter.

He felt the jarring impact before both were cast aside, tossed out of the memory. It was as if Poe was swimming in the space found with closed eyes, darkness sprinkled with speckles of vibrant stars.

His right eyelid cracked open, the other swollen shut from General Hux’s earlier efforts. The first thing that caught Poe’s eye as he focused back on the room was the crumpled pile of black clothes against the wall, the second thing completely missing him as he leaned forward and fell out of the interrogation chair.

Poe threw his hands out to catch himself, groaning as the impact ran up his arms and jolted the fresh wounds he had garnered. A harsh throbbing took hold of his skull. Grimacing, Poe reached for the chair and pulled himself up to his feet. He eyed the black mass warily, a sick realization pooling in his stomach that it was not just discarded articles 0f clothing.

“How in the-” Poe muttered to himself, stopping short as the door suddenly opened.

“Kylo Ren wants the priso-” 

The stormtrooper froze at the sight of Poe, who stood still beside the chair for a moment before throwing himself at them. 

“Hey no wait-” the stormtrooper was cutoff as Poe tackled him to the ground, but that was all the momentum the element of surprise provided. They wrestled for a few moments before the trooper had Poe pinned. “Cut it out!” he hissed as the rebel pilot continued to struggle in his grasp, “this is a rescue, I’m here to help you escape.”

Poe stopped. “What?”

The trooper removed his helmet, revealing a young man with dark skin and short hair. Poe blinked at the sight. It was odd seeing the people beneath the armor.

“Can you fly a TIE fighter?”

Poe frowned at the stormtrooper. “Are you with the Resistance?”

“What? No no no, I’m here to get you out. Can you fly a TIE fighter?”

“I can fly anything,” Poe said with a tinge of indignance. A laugh came out of the trooper and Poe nearly smiled at the sound of it. Their growing joy passed at the sound of shuffling movement on the other side of the room.

“We need to go,” Poe whispered urgently. The trooper stumbled to his feet and pulled Poe up to his. The man paused as his eyes landed on Kylo Ren. He pointed a finger at the Force user, giving Poe a raised eyebrow.

“Did you do that?” 

Poe’s face was stiff as stone. “We need to go,” he repeated. “Put the cuffs on.”

The trooper looked at Kylo Ren a moment longer before turning to Poe and securing his hands in front of him. He put his helmet back on and guided Poe out of the room, both of them walking faster. A speck of tension escaped Poe’s shoulders as the door closed behind them, another when they left the corridor.

Their escape was a blur. Poe remembered the sound of their boots hurrying along the polished floors of the Star Destroyer. The grand hangar where stormtroopers and First Order officers did not bat an eye at the trooper- Finn- as he had led Poe towards the TIE fighters. Getting stuck, getting unstuck. Finn cheering, the sound still faintly ringing in Poe’s ears. The crash.

The crash. Poe surged up before he was jerked back by the chair’s straps. The restraint sent Poe into flight mode and he pulled and twisted at the safety belts before he found the clasp and freed himself. He scrambled off of the chair, fumbling as pain shot up his leg and sent him back to his hands and knees. 

Hot sand burned his palms as he put more distance between him and the chair. Collapsing, Poe twisted around and eyed the chair. His chest ached at the expansion of his ribs as he took large breaths, working to calm himself. Kylo Ren was nowhere to be seen, the pilot seat not the interrogation chair sitting in the back of Poe’s head. He ran a sand-covered hand through his hair, a settling breath forcing himself to calm down.

“Finn,” Poe’s head snapped up. He grunted as he got to his feet but he stood firm, head twisting to look around for the stormtrooper. 

“Finn!” Poe cupped his hands around his mouth. “Finn!” He couldn’t find a hint of the wreckage, no smoke trails in the distance. No Finn.

“Kriffin Force,” Poe muttered as he squatted to his knees, balled hands pressed against his forehead. There was a bad lump building in his throat. Poe sniffed, taking a few quick breaths before he released a larger one.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Poe said, scanning the horizon. “No ship, no Beebee-Ate, no Finn, but I can do this.” Poe swallowed the lump in his throat. “I can do this.”

The deserts of Jakku were speckled with villages and markets, Poe knew this. It was a planet of scavengers, searching through the scraps left behind in the middle of nowhere. If he stuck to one direction, he could find a place with resources, find a ship. Or he would wander the desert until he died. Poe wasn’t anxious to see what would happen first.

Dune after dune he slowly scaled, the pain in his leg from earlier aching with each passing moment. His tongue grew thick in his mouth and the sunlight had already burned his skin at the back of his neck. He eventually shed his shirt and had it draped over his head and neck, barely reaching parts of his shoulders.

Poe remembered his dad telling him about the Battle of Jakku. How it had been one of the most pivotal turning points against the fight with the Empire. An odd overwhelming emotion had passed through him when he had arrived to receive the map from Lor San Tekka. That Jakku would again be connected to the end of another Empire, holding the key to Luke Skywalker. 

When the sunlight began to dwindle, Poe slipped his sweat-riddled shirt off of his head and back onto his sun-burnt body. He had kind of assumed if he were to die it would be in the heat, but as the cool air began to pass over the sands, Poe got a different idea. It was soothing at first against his skin stained with sweat and burns. But the cold dug deeper than the heat, and Poe felt it in his bones.

Stopping for a moment, Poe dropped onto the sand and stretched his right leg out. He rolled the pant leg up, wincing at the bruising along his calf and up to his knee. A brief test above the knee proved to be more fruitful, if not still tender. It must have been wrenched and battered around the TIE fighter before he was ejected. The left leg was better off, though there was still some discoloration. But the coloring was fainter, and Poe was thankful for that.

As the stars began to bleed out from the night, Poe looked up at them. The memory of flying his toy starship, holding it in his small hands as he danced around the Tree, came back to him and Poe felt a strong ache. He wanted to be up there.

Looking back at Jakku, Poe glanced between where he had come and where he was going. It was as endless as the oceans of Mon Cala. 

“Alright Poe, back to it,” he muttered. Groaning, Poe made it back to his feet and continued walking forward. The cold nipped at his skin, a slight chatter trying to take over his teeth. 

What felt like miles passed beneath his feet until he couldn’t move anymore. It was pain. It was exhaustion. It was dehydration. It was the cold. Each of them battered at Poe until he was curled up against the cold grains of sand pressing against his cheek. The aches in his side slowly edged Poe over until he was lying on his back, and looking back up at the stars. 

“Leia,” Poe muttered on cracked lips, “I’m sorry.”

“Poe.” His name bounced around in his head and against his ear in her voice as if the General was beside him. 

Blinking lights twinkled beside the stars. Poe frowned, knowing that most stars weren’t red. Then his eyes widened.

“Hey!” Poe tried to shout, though the word barely came out of his throat. He struggled to his feet and ripped his shirt off, waving it desperately above him. “Hey!”

The red lights of the starship grew closer, and Poe might’ve started crying if he had anything left inside of him. Winds hit him as the ship descended, a platform sliding out while the door began to open. Poe’s nerves began to build in his gut, bunching up the shirt tight in his hand.

Two people stood in the doorway of the ship. It was hard to make out in the darkness, but to Poe it seemed as if the ship had been hastily put together and running on spare parts. One of them turned on a light, the brightness blinding Poe as they focused it on him.

“You stranded out here, man?” Poe held up a hand against it, squinting as he tried to focus on the two strangers.

“You have no idea, pal.” Poe said. “Me and a friend were going to check out a TIE fighter that crashed further out that way,” Poe pointed, swallowing at the dry lump in his throat. “But my speeder went down and we both got thrown. Haven’t seen either of them. If you could just get me to the nearest outpost I can pay you back and I’ll be out of your hair.”

There was an uncomfortable silence that curled Poe’s toes. Then a strange voice, different from the first one, spoke up.

“I do not believe you,” he said before firing his blaster. Poe leapt out of the way, muffling a groan as he rolled off of his back and tried to run. 

“Kriffin hell,” Poe muttered at the sound of the ship’s engine firing up. He considered for a brief second the idea of burying himself in the sand, but his tired, injured legs gave out beneath him before the absurdity could even process as a good idea. Poe was fresh out of any ideas.

“Really?” The first voice said as the ship settled a few yards from Poe. The pilot got to his feet. “You made us start the ship up and fly a few more yards? What was the point of that?”

“Fuck off,” Poe said. Stars, he was so tired. 

There was no return. The blaster fired and Poe collapsed. 


	2. Chapter Two

“Wake up silly,” his mom nudged him, and Poe struggled to hold back a giggle as he turned around in bed.

“I’m not awake,” Poe whispered, pulling the blanket up to his ears. 

“Well, if you’re not awake,” Poe felt the mattress shift as she rose up from the bed, “then I guess I’ll have to go flying by myself.”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Poe threw the blanket off and nearly fell out of the bed. “Do you mean it?”

His mom smiled and crossed her arms. “Unless you want to stay in bed, Poe.” She turned her head away slightly. “If you’re too tired then we don’t have to.”

Poe jumped up and down. “I’m awake, promise. Look mom I’m awake!” He jumped around her and she laughed before catching him and spinning him around.

“I guess we better get going then,” she said.

Poe’s eyes fluttered open after someone nudged him in his side. It was harsher than his mother, and Poe squinted in confusion as he looked around at the strange surroundings. The hum of the starship’s engine was soothing.

Someone nudged him harsher this time, digging against one of his ribs that was most likely cracked, and Poe shouted in protest.

“Son of a—” Poe grit his teeth and lightly shook his head. He went to wipe at his face with his left hand but was stopped by a cuff attached to a support bar above him. He uselessly tugged at it before looking over at the stranger. 

Their skin was a deep red, hidden by brown robes and cloth wrapped around their arms and legs. The mask which hid most of their facial features save for the two tusks that protruded from their jaw held Poe’s attention for a frightful moment. But the distinct contrast to Ren’s, the pale bone and reddish-brown markings compared to the uniformity and darkness, did little to quell the discomfort in his gut. Two yellow eyes watched Poe’s observations. The robes were draped over their tall, crouched frame, but Poe spotted the blaster beside their hip. 

“You’re Kaleesh,” Poe said, though it came out as if his vocal chords had been run through a grater.

“And you are human,” he returned. His eyes seemed to fly over the burns and the bruising that marked a large portion of Poe’s torso before settling back on his face. “But you don’t look like a scavenger.”

“I am.”

“I am a scavenger. I know scavengers. You are no scavenger. So, what are you?”

Poe sat up straighter. “I already told you, pal. I don’t care if you believe me or not, but that’s the truth.”

The Kaleesh shook his head and stood up, walking over to a small counter. The room was the belly of the beast, from Poe’s guess. He looked behind him, where a few seats sat against the back. Compartments lined the opposite wall, though Poe’s thoughts slammed to a stop at the sound of pouring.

His head shot towards the Kaleesh before Poe had even fully processed. Then his captor, with two full glasses of water in hand, sat back down across from him. One glass he set down in between them, the other he kept in his hand. Poe’s free hand was balled tight against his side, a frown already worn into his eyebrows as he resisted the temptation.

“Would you like to hear what I think about it?”

“Oh yeah, I’d love that,” Poe said. 

The Kaleesh’s face was unreadable beneath the mask, and there was a brief pause before he continued. 

“If I am right, you can have the glass of water. Now,” he leaned against what Poe guessed was the door to the cockpit, “you are not a scavenger. And, considering there was a recent attack made by the First Order, that makes you either them, or with the Resistance. My first guess was First Order, lying to avoid sympathizers, but after seeing your injuries I’m going to say you are Resistance.”

The Kaleesh took the chin of his mask and raised it slightly before bringing the cup to his lips. Poe watched as he took a long draw from the glass, all the while remaining tight-lipped and silent.

He set the empty glass down and looked at Poe. “Am I anywhere close?”

Poe shook his head. “You’re wrong.”

“I understand if you are lying,” the Kaleesh said. “You are cuffed inside of a stranger’s ship whose allegiance you do not know.”

“Do you even have one?”

“Will it change your answer if I do?”

Poe frowned. “No.”

“Then it does not matter.”

“Look man, why’d you pick me up? If you don’t believe me, then why not just leave me to die?”

“You called for us.” The Kaleesh picked up Poe’s glass. “If you want us to drop you off back in the middle of nowhere, with no ship or outpost in sight, then I will gladly do so.” He lifted his mask again and drank. Poe’s nose wrinkled, nostrils flaring before he looked away, trying to breath steadily.

“If you were honest, I may be inclined to give you a drink this time.” The Kaleesh held the empty glass, offering. Poe’s eyes went from the glass to the pitcher, his dry tongue peaking out of his mouth before he regained his focus. He couldn’t risk it. 

“I’m a scavenger, and you’re blowing this way out of proportion, buddy,” Poe said.  
The Kaleesh placed the empty glass in front of Poe. “I do admire your dedication,” he said before standing up. He looked down at Poe, who met his gaze evenly, then gently set his glass on the counter before heading into the cockpit.

Poe waited until the door had slit shut with a hiss, and he stared at it warily for another moment before snatching the glass. His eyes went to the door, anger sitting in his belly, and he threw the glass. It didn’t shatter, knocking against the door before rolling away. Poe huffed, wincing at the ache that sprung from his chest. All it did was spark the irritation already itching beneath his skin. 

He’d lost -8. He’d lost Finn. He had more bruises and cuts that he hadn’t gone looking for. The feeling of Ren digging into his head echoed like forming scars, irritating and present. But then Poe looked at his hand. He remembered the fight with Ren. He remembered, that moment when he had thrown his hand out to meet his. 

Poe looked up at his left hand, hanging uselessly by the will of the cuff. He scoffed, shaking his head and glancing around the room mindlessly. I. He was next to the exit, the handle out of reach. 

“Wonderful metaphor,” Poe muttered. He looked back over at the glass, which had rolled across to the other side. He looked away, scoffing again. Then he looked back.

It wasn’t like he didn’t believe in the Force. He’d met Luke Skywalker and knew General Organa. But it was never something he considered on a personal scale. The Force was a part of a grander scheme, a universal design to explain the balance of their world. Poe was just a pilot, the best pilot in the Resistance, but that shouldn’t mean much in the universe.

Jokingly, to tease his own lack of sensibility, Poe wiggled the fingers on his left hand at the glass. At first, nothing happened. And then the glass rolled.

Though it would have been a bit more exciting if the whole ship hadn’t turned as well. Poe’s shoulder pressed against the door, his left arm hanging awkwardly over his head while the glass rolled into his leg. The turn lasted for a couple minutes before the engine slowed. Poe listened intently to the ship, hearing the parts work to a slow and steady halt.

When the landing gear met the earth, there was a brief silence as the systems started to quiet. Then the cockpit door opened and the two scavengers were looking down at Poe. Slipping into defiance easily, Poe looked back at them evenly.

The Kaleesh walked over to the exit door and opened it. Poe squinted against the light of the sun, raising a hand to cover his eyes.

“There are, at best, five outposts or villages in this area,” the Kaleesh said. Reaching down, he graed Poe’s arm and pulled him up beside him. Poe almost collapsed but the Kaleesh held his weight, keeping him upright. “Anyone who lives here knows them all by heart.” The Kaleesh looked down at Poe. “Which outpost is this, scavenger?”

Eyes wandering the architecture of the squat, scattered houses and stalls glanced back up at the Kaleesh. Poe considered lying. He knew the names of three outposts and villages, but the look in the Kaleesh’s eyes told Poe that he had already lost.

The Kaleesh let him go, and Poe fell from the lost support, only saved by the pilot who caught him by the arm and helped him ease onto the floor. Poe stared at the two red legs that planted themselves beside his own outstretched legs. 

A glass of water was in the Kaleesh’s hand, and he held out to Poe. Harsh anger burned in Poe’s chest, upset and without proper direction. Begrudgingly, he took the glass from the Kaleesh’s hand.

“Welcome to Cratertown,” the Kaleesh said. He stood up, his attention now on his friend. Poe looked between them, the glass shaking in his hand as he held it.

“I will go get what we need while you stay with him. Keep an eye out for trouble.” The Kaleesh patted the human’s shoulder. Poe didn’t look up as the Kaleesh’s eyes grazed over his battered frame before he stepped out of the starship and into town.

The pilot pulled the door nearly closed, leaving a small crack to peek through. His eyes stared through it for awhile until he finally looked over at Poe. 

“It don’t matter how tough you are, you need water.”

Poe said nothing, his hand still shaking. The pilot tilted his head to the side before he chose to sat down across from Poe. Poe eyed him warily as he did so.

The pilot laid his blaster harmlessly across his lap. “This ain’t for you. I mean it is, but not like I’m trying to shoot you. It’s in case someone comes over here looking for trouble.” He gave a small smile. “My name’s Jeb.” Scratching at the back of his head, Jeb glanced through the crack before looking back at Poe. “Sihtal is a bit intimidating. Used to scare me too.”

“What are you gonna do with me?” 

“If you drink the water I’ll give you an idea,” Jeb said.

Poe raised an eyebrow, staring at the pilot before looking at the glass in his hand. He frowned at it. It was admittance, and even if the game was over Poe hesitated to take the sip his mouth craved when he had woken up. 

Sighing, Poe brought the glass to his lips. The water slipped down his throat and soothed every ache of dehydration that had stuck to Poe’s dry throat and tongue. He relished in the feeling and a small whimper bounced up from the back of his throat when the glass had been emptied.

A laugh snapped Poe’s attention back to Jeb, who had watched. Color began to peak up on Poe’s cheeks and he quickly set the glass down.

“I get it man, you’re fine,” Jeb chuckled before getting up and picking the glass up. He filled it from the pitcher and handed the full glass to Poe before settling back down.

This time Poe took a simple sip, closing his eyes. His mind was beginning to function more under his own control rather than reaction, and he began to weigh his options.

They were scavengers, looking for reward for what they found. Even if they had allegiances with the First Order, that wouldn’t mean much if the Resistance could beat their offer. Hopefully.

“What’s your plan?” Poe asked, focusing on Jeb.

“We’ve got a few ideas, all kind of depending on who you are. You plan on telling me that so I can rub it in Sihtal’s face?”

Poe sat up more, taking another sip of the water. “I’ve got resources willing to pay, if that’s what you are looking for. All I need is a way to reach out to them.” 

“You’re still worried about whether we care about the First Order or the Resistance?”

“You feel the same way about me, don’t you?”

“Worried about a wrong answer?” Jeb laughed as Poe remained taciturn. “Have you looked at yourself man? I bet Sihtal you were Resistance as soon as I got a good look at you.” Jeb wiped at something in his eye. “Nah, if you know Jakku you know that allegiances don’t matter down here. It’s all about surviving, and you don’t survive if you limit your options like that.” Jeb grinned. “You gave it a good try, sticking to your story.”

“Thanks,” Poe deadpanned. He glanced up at the cuff. “I’m guessing this isn’t coming off anytime soon?”

“Sihtal’s idea. Better safe than sorry.” Jeb frowned as he looked through the crack.

“What is it?”

“Hang on just a sec, bud. I’ll be right back.” Jeb stood up, blaster ready in his hand, and wrenched the door open. Poe turned his head, grimacing at the light, but before he could turn and catch what Jeb had seen, the door snapped close behind him.

* * *

Sihtal naturally slipped between the streets of Cratertown. He got a few waves and nods from old contacts and acquaintances before he entered the shade provided by Madame Tu’lionne’s market. A few stands were spread across the space, a multitude of species milling about and trying to barter with their own scraps.

“Kaleeshi!” Sihtal turned and looked at the Elomin who waved at him from her stand. He walked over and took his mask off. “Roshi,” he offered a smile.

She reached over the counter and forced him into a large embrace. Lightly, Sihtal returned the gesture, patting her back gently. “It is good to see you, too.”

“Too long! Too long my dashing Sihtal. Did you return just for me?”

“I am afraid not, Roshi. Though you are always a wonder to see on my visits.” Sihtal glanced over at the newsstand next to Roshi’s and paused at the sight of the holoclips. There was the not-scavenger’s face, bruised and scraped.

Resistance pilot, Poe Dameron. Beside him was the bounty for a stormtrooper, FN-2187. They escaped together. Whether or not the stormtrooper took part willingly, Sihtal could not determine. Neither could the First Order.

“How are you in terms of bacta, Roshi?” Sihtal asked, turning his attention back to his old friend. 

“I’ve got some, what do you have in terms of payment?”

“Whatever you need.”

Roshi pulled out three canisters, small and cylindrical. Their silver plating hid the healing substance inside. “That’s gonna cost you forty two credits.”

“And do you have any water on you? Jeb and I are beginning to run low.”

Roshi shook her head. “Sorry love, but you can check over at Yoml’s stand if they have any.”

“Alright. Thank you very much, Roshi.” Sihtal placed the credits in Roshi’s opened hand, offering another smile before he placed the bacta containers into his pack. Slipping the mask back on, Sihtal headed over to Yoml’s stand.

“You say hi to that troublesome friend of yours for me!” Roshi called out.

Sihtal waved in acknowledgment.

Reaching the Lafrarian’s stand, Sihtal waited behind an older Hethas as they argued with Yoml about their obnoxious pricing. They certainly weren’t cheap. Sihtal idly played with the credits in his hand while he looked back over at the newsstand. 

A Resistance pilot that had escaped the First Order. The wounds the pilot had, Sihtal had guessed well enough. His intuition had always seemed to be right. There were plenty of bounties listed at the stall, unsurprisingly. Jakku was no innocent land. It was where things came to hide. Or die.

There was a reward for the location of an astromech droid, a unit. It poked at the back of Sihtal’s head, but before he could read more of the information provided, a rough voice drew him back to the stand.

“What do you want, standing there all oblivious?”

“Hello, Yoml,” Sihtal greeted. “How much are you charging today?”

“What for?”

“Water,” Sihtal said. The only thing the Lafrarian sold that was valuable.

“I can get you about as much as an Ewok’s leg for seventy credits.”

Sihtal stared at Yoml. Crossing their arms, Yoml glared back.

“Don’t look like that, you’re the one who chose to live out here in the middle of this wasteland. You want to save money go try and find the water that disappeared a millenia ago. You not having any water isn’t my problem.”

Sihtal threw down the pouch he kept by his side. “Fifty credits is what I have, what are you able to give me with that?”

Yoml held their chin in their hand, appearing to consider. “Most of an Ewok’s leg, I suppose. Up to the knee, maybe?”

“That’s fine.” Sihtal paused, considering Yoml for a brief moment. “You are not measuring this with an actual Ewok’s leg, are you?”

“Of course not,” Yoml said as they placed their thin fingers over the pouch and dragged it across the counter. Yoml looked at Sihtal’s masked face a moment more before turning around and digging through their supplies.

“Here’s half—” The Elomin stopped, watching as Sithal quirked an eyebrow up, “— you know what? Just take it and leave,” Yoml grumbled as they counted the credits. Sihtal almost retorted, then thought better of it, taking the container and leaving the merchant behind. 

Sihtal was close to the ship having passed the market and weaving through the few villagers that had planted themselves here until they too passed, when he stopped. There was an odd pit in his stomach, like a lingering taste that had long since forgotten where it came from. Intuition had saved Sihtal more times than he had tried consciously, having the scars to prove it. His body, the quiet parts of his mind, often caught wind of danger before he could see it. 

Spotting the back end from where he stood, Sihtal took a couple more steps towards his and Jeb’s ship. He hesitated on the fourth step, at the sight of the five stormtroopers that Jeb was talking to. But their pale suits and blasters did not scare Sihtal. He continued his approach, his hand casually at his side.

Jeb noticed him when he was only partially across the clearing, still needing to cross half of it to reach his partner. His face paled and Sihtal frowned. Then Jeb pointed at Sihtal and he understood.

“He’s a Resistance fighter, he’s trying to save the pilot!” Jeb shouted. The stormtroopers turned, but Sihtal ignored them. Holding Jeb’s sneerish face in his gaze, Sihtal wanted the human to know. Jeb faltered beneath his arrogance and Sihtal’s gaze, and he stumbled back towards the ship.

“Show us your identification!” One of the stormtroopers shouted. Two marched forward carefully, blasters aimed while one foot swept past the other.

Sihtal watched Jeb reach the door before giving his attention to the stormtroopers. “There is no need for that,” Sihtal said. His hand wrapped around the blaster. “I am exactly what he said.” 

He rushed forward, drawing his blaster and firing upon the stormtroopers.


	3. Chapter Three

Poe got to his feet, grimacing, as Jeb scrambled back into the starship. He slammed the door shut, stopping when he turned and was faced with Poe on two legs.

“What’s the situation?” Poe asked, his left hand holding tight to the handlebar. Most of his support was leaning into his left leg. He tried to keep the concern on his face. His trust in Jeb was about as far as he could punt Beebee-Ate.

Jeb searched Poe’s face. “Sihtal gave you up to the First Order, I saw the troopers and I couldn’t give you up to em.”

Part of his face dropped, mouth slightly open as if in disbelief or at a loss for words. Jeb’s toes tapped before he made a move to the cockpit. “We gotta leave.” He took a step forward and Poe caught his shoulder.

“Wait,” he said. Jeb looked at him curiously.

First of all, Poe would never punt Beebee-Ate. 

He fisted the pilot’s shirt and pulled him forward, bashing their heads together. Jeb stumbled back, stopped as Poe kept his hold on the pilot’s clothes. Shaking his head, Poe tried to clear the black spots that crowded his vision. 

“Terrible idea,” he muttered. In his defense, he still had a headache from earlier and figured it wouldn’t be getting better anytime soon.

He yanked Jeb close while he was still recovering, wrapping his arm around his neck. Jeb’s hands dug against Poe’s arm, trying to pull it off.

“What the hell, man?” Jeb croaked, his voice hoarse as Poe tightened his grip.

“Cut it, asshole,” Poe snapped, holding firm as Jeb struggled. “I heard you talk to them outside. You called them here.”

Jeb stopped, his fingers losing their slack on Poe’s arm.

“Are the keys in your pocket?” Poe squeezed Jeb with his hold as the pilot remained quiet. “Are they?”

Jeb’s head nodded against Poe’s arm. “Yeah,” he said.

Releasing their hold on Poe’s arm, Jeb’s hands went to his pockets. Then his arm snapped to the side, his elbow slamming against Poe’s right leg, just above the knee.

Howling, Poe’s grip slackened on Jeb and he fell back to the floor, clutching his leg to his chest. Tears had involuntarily sprung from the corners of his eyes. 

“Cheap shot,” Poe huffed between his quick breaths.

Jeb looked down at Poe. There was still a good amount of color in his face, a growing smudge of deep red springing from his forehead.

“It’s not really personal man, if that makes you feel better.”

“It doesn’t,” Poe said. Anger and adrenaline riddled his veins, feeding Poe until he tried to lash out and grab at Jeb. He snagged the corner of Jeb’s shirt but the pilot jumped back, wrenching himself free of Poe’s grasp.

“Stop it! You’re chained to the wall, for stars’ sake.” Jeb shook his head. “Just sit down and meditate, or someth—” 

Both of their heads turned towards the door at the sound of blasters firing. Poe watched as Jeb’s face blanched slightly. Then he pointed a finger at him. “Don’t try any shit,” he said before slipping into the cockpit, the door slamming shut behind him.

Poe stared at the cockpit before banging on the exit.

“Hey! Hey!” Poe’s fist smashed against the metal uselessly. As the engine began to hum beneath him, Poe pounded on the door harder. “Hey!” Poe shouted one more time before the ship jerked forward. Sliding with the movement, the cuff caught Poe’s arm and wrenched him to a stop, dragging one more grunt out of Poe.

Pulling himself back to the wall, Poe held onto the handle as the ship’s metal groaned from take off. It shuddered against the pressure, until it was finally in the air and quickly left Cratertown behind. 

The ship hummed, pieces working in turn and occasionally singing out. Poe listened, white knuckles holding onto the embedded piece of metal. He slammed the wall behind him with his right hand once, with the fury that sat uselessly beside him. Poe sucked in a quick breath and exhaled slowly, glaring at the cockpit.

His head twisted up, studying the cuff. It wasn’t thick, but there was no way for Poe to cut through it. Poe eyed his left thumb, considering the digit as he pulled the cuff idly with his left arm. 

Poe huffed, returning to his glaring. If he was lucky, the Force would help him burn through the door and he could cut straight through Jeb’s head. But all he could do was sit. His bones rattled with the ship and his pains sang with the parts, the cuff’s chain jingling above his head.

* * *

Sihtal had shot the stormtrooper before tackling him, using his body for cover as the others opened fire. He felt each hit from the blaster knock against their fallen comrade before the remnants of it shoved lightly against Sihtal. 

Keeping the body in front of him, Sihtal took out the second closest trooper and worked towards the others. Two fired a quick burst of rounds before racing away from the clearing, leaving behind only one man.

The ship shuddered as it began to lift off of the air. Sihtal fired two shots at it, the rounds glancing off the side as it rose higher and propelled itself forward. The blaster was shot out of his hand and Sihtal focused back on the last stormtrooper.

“Put your hands in the air! Surrender now, rebel scum.” The stormtrooper kept his blaster trained on Sihtal. Sihtal did as the stormtrooper ordered, facing him as he raised his hands above his head.

“On your knees.”

Sihtal hesitated, and the stormtrooper knocked the back of his rifle into Sihtal’s back. He dropped to the ground, catching himself on his hands. 

“You’re going to pay for what you did to Dice and R—” 

A sound shot across the clearing, Sihtal ducking his head as it rang past his ears in a high pitched scream. Looking up, Sihtal spotted the stormtrooper, what was left of him, amongst the rubble of a nearby abandoned building.

Retrieving his blaster, Sihtal stared at the rubble curiously.

“You alright, Kaleeshi?” 

“You have my gratitude, Roshi,” Sihtal said as he turned around. Roshi was standing at the other end of the clearing, her blaster cannon hanging from one of her arms. “And yes, I am alright.”

Roshi looked over at the nearby deserts, pointing. “I’m guessing you and Jeb aren’t on good terms anymore?”

“So it seems,” Sihtal watched the ship grow smaller, caught in the layers of sand and wavering sky. Turning back to Roshi, Sihtal walked over to his old friend. “I would hate to ask for more of you, Roshi, but is your speeder still in working condition?”

“‘Working’ might be a bit strong, honey. But you can go ahead and use it.”

Sihtal took her hand, holding it gently. “I am indebted to you once more.”

“Yeah you are,” Roshi said with a smile. “Now get going.”

Sihtal squeezed her hand once more before slipping past her and heading towards her home. 

He found the old speeder chained up and hidden by a collection of junk. Sihtal tried to be gentle with Roshi’s things as he moved them out of the way. The chains were quick to take off once Sihtal found the key for them.

What was a greater source of stress was the speeder’s resistance to starting. The small engine would growl and splutter in protest before fading back into silence.

“Please do not be like this,” Sihtal muttered as he opened a panel and fidgeted with the wiring. Closing his eyes, Sihtal tried the ignition once more. 

Again, the engine seemed to use its ailing breath to curse him before disappearing. 

Sihtal inhaled a sharp breath, holding back his growing frustrations. With a slow exhale, Sihtal studied the parts again and readjusted some of his initial changes. Once more, he tried the ignition.

“Stars alive!” Sihtal cursed as the engine refused to start. He fired the ignition three more times, when finally the engine surrendered and ran without pause. Sihtal eyed the machine distrustfully for a moment.

“We will discuss this later,” Sihtal said with a pointed finger before hopping onto the speeder. He shot out of the lot, weaving between the few still scattered on the path until he reached the edge of Cratertown. Without stopping, Sihtal raced into the desert and followed the direction the starship had taken. 

Even if Jeb had changed direction, spun in circles, raced to the other side of the planet, Sihtal would find him.

* * *

It was hard to be angry and exhausted at the same time. Poe’s body craved sleep as much as his mind craved action. His eyelids would close and he would feel the dreams of a deep sleep approaching before his mind would wake. He would shoot up from his slumped position, then his injuries would snap at him like feral dogs. They would bite and sting until Poe stilled, and as he laid still his eyelids would hang heavy, then heavier, and back into the cycle he would slip.

When Poe jumped back into consciousness again, he knew that the ship had settled. The gears and finer parts of the old ship had Achingly, Poe worked himself up to a sitting position. He stretched and tested the fingers on his left hand, trying to get the blood flowing. Soreness ran through his left arm from the odd angles he had found in his sleep, and Poe scoffed. It seemed the only thing he hadn’t damaged on this mission was his pancreas.

If he was lucky, the attention Jeb had brought to him would help Beebee-Ate escape the First Order. Not that he had seemed to have much luck, recently.

The cockpit door slid open, and Poe’s eyes went from Jeb’s worn out boots, to his blaster, to his sad eyes that were full of bullshit.

“Have a nice ride?” Jeb went over to the counter and filled a glass with water. Poe watched with bitter disdain as he slowly drank, as if already lying in the lap of impending luxury.

“Your piloting answers all my questions as to why this ship looks like it’s gonna fall apart any second.” Jeb huffed, taking another sip. “That’s to mean your flying is shit, if you didn’t catch that pal.”

Poe saw the way Jeb’s finger beside the trigger twitched, curling in and out in rapid succession. Putting the glass down, Jeb leaned against the counter. He studied Poe for a moment, then nodded his head towards the pitcher. 

“You want a glass? Just one last round before they nick you and throw ya into whatever shithole you slipped out of? Here,” Jeb filled his glass and walked across the small space before bending down to Poe’s eye level. “Go ahead, pal.”

For a moment, Poe held Jeb’s gaze. Then, he looked away before accepting the glass with his free hand. Jeb stayed beside him, watching as Poe brought the glass to his lips and took a sip. Then, Poe spat the water out at Jeb, hitting his captor in the face. Jeb made a move to stumble back, cursing, but Poe threw his leg out and caught the man’s foot. 

Falling onto his back, Jeb kicked out as Poe latched onto his pant leg. The strain from his left arm caused him to grit his teeth, but he had enough range to grab a fistful of the fabric while Jeb struggled. One of his kicks caught Poe in the shoulder, knocking him back against the wall. Poe cried out, wrapping his arm around the leg to hold it in place. There was little room between them, as if sharing the space of a cot, and when Jeb tried to reach for his blaster Poe kicked at his hand.

“For fuck’s sake!” Jeb cried out, shaking out his fingers and hissing. He jerked his leg harder against Poe’s grip, trying to pull himself out of reach. Poe held tight, attempting to drag him closer by pulling himself back with the handlebar.

Poe wasn’t sure what his plan was. Escape, was the first word to come to mind. Mostly, he just wanted to hit Jeb. So he had. And there they were, on the floor. Wrestling. Poe Dameron, Commander of the Resistance. And Jeb. Jeb the kidnapping asshole. 

Jeb’s hands searched for something to hold onto when Poe began to successfully pull him forward. Finding nothing secure, Jeb changed tactics and grabbed Poe’s leg. His fingers dug into his skin, tearing a shout out of Poe. 

“God I hate you,” Poe hissed as he tried to get his leg out of Jeb’s hold.

“I wasn’t being personal, man!” Jeb snapped back. “This is just business.”

“Fuck your business!” Stars splashed across his sight when Jeb swung his fist into Poe’s leg. The insides of his throat were mauled to high heaven from how many times Poe had screamed, the next one scraping another piece off. His hold on Jeb’s leg weakened and that was all it took for him to tear his leg out of Poe’s grip and quickly drag himself out of reach.

As Jeb used the counter to help him to his feet, Poe used the handlebar to pull him towards the exit. When Poe got his left leg under him, he bit back a groan as he pushed himself up to stand. His right leg buckled on the quick attempt to stand on both legs, and Poe nearly fell if not for his grip on the handlebar.

Laughter drew Poe’s attention back to Jeb, who was still holding onto the counter with one hand. 

“Are you kidding me?” Jeb said. He scoffed, “You’re— I mean look at you! When will you learn to just sit the fuck down, man?” He gestured at him before dropping his arm. “You can’t even stand right. Why couldn’t you just sit there, man?”

“Fuck off, that’s why,” Poe said, spitting on the floor. 

“Alright,” Jeb pointed a finger, “that’s it.” He stomped over and Poe barely raised his arm before Jeb punched him in the face, knuckles cracking against his cheek and sending him to the floor. 

Poe reasoned that time must have passed between when Jeb had decked him and when his left hand was freed from the handlebar. And when he had gotten his shirt back. Not that he could recall. It was as if he had shifted from one instant to the next.

Distantly, he heard the exit door slide open. Closer were the hands that secured his own and hauled him off of the ship. The cool, metal floor of the starship melted into the grains of sand that brushed against Poe’s legs and feet. Poe’s shirt was untangled from Jeb’s grasp and he sank further on his knees.

Poe looked up at the sound of voices, shaking his head as the exterior lights of the other starship cut through the haze in his eyes. Blearily, he squinted past it and focused on the silhouettes in front of him. 

“Finn?” The name slipped out of Poe’s mouth and sensibility followed. Kylo Ren. The Tree, Luke. Escaping. Finn. Crash. 

Asshole. Poe twisted his head around to look up at Jeb, who kept his eyes focused on the stormtroopers.

“Delivered as promised, fellas.”

The stormtrooper spoke to the other, the white mask glaring down at Poe. “Get him on board, send a message back to General Hux saying that the rebel pilot has been retrieved.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The other trooper made a move to grab Poe but Jeb clicked his tongue, pointing his blaster at the pilot. The hairs on the back of Poe’s neck stood, though he remained still. 

“Hold on there. You all know that there’s a little matter of payment first.”

“EH-0309, get the payment off the ship.”

There was a pause before the stormtrooper acknowledged his superior and with a sharp turn on his heel marched towards the ship. The remaining trooper took a few steps closer, staring down at Poe.

“This scum has caused more trouble than he’s worth if you ask me.” 

Jeb nodded, the blaster’s muzzle pressed lightly against Poe’s temple. Poe’s hands were fists atop his thighs, the blistering along his knuckles vibrant beside the pale skin. His eyes shifted from the trooper to Jeb. 

“I thought they didn’t ask stormtroopers anything. I thought that was like,” Poe waved his hand with a shrug, “your thing.”

“The First Order will bring unity to the galaxy. All you’ve done is waste our time and your own.”

“It’s more of a hobby. Do hobbies count as wasting time?”

A hand cuffed the back of his head. “Why can’t you ever just shut up and—”

Intense heat and sound washed over the desert, knocking the others to the ground. Poe, working himself back to his knees, saw the burning wreckage of the stormtrooper’s ship. 

“Where’s it coming from?” Jeb said.

Blaster bolts shot through the air, crashing into Jeb’s light freighter.

“Over there!” The stormtrooper pointed at the crest behind Jeb’s starship. She crawled to the side of the ship, back pressed against the exterior and blaster tight against her chest. 

Still on the ground, Poe ducked at a quick volley of shots that flew in various directions over the top of the starship. He looked over at Jeb, who was lying on his stomach in the sand, blaster clutched defensively in front of him.

The two made eye contact when the rounds ended, then both scrambled to their feet. Poe made it to his feet, kicking sand everywhere and cursing as he struggled with his hands in front of him.

“Don’t let him go!” the stormtrooper shouted at Jeb as Poe tried to put distance between him and the pilot. A shot nicked the earth just beside Poe’s feet when he left the cover of the starship, and then they stopped firing. Poe glanced at the crest as he awkwardly hobbled. 

But Jeb had two functioning legs, and he reached Poe in a matter of moments. He shoved at his shoulder, sending Poe toppling to the ground. A panicked scream was drawn out of Jeb when a round landed between him and Poe, but the pilot grabbed Poe and dragged him back to the ship with large, hurried steps.

“You’re sticking with me til this is all over.” Jeb said as he tossed Poe against the starship. He crouched beside the other corner, his left hand curling the barrel of the blaster close to his chest.

Peeking her head around the corner, the stormtrooper quickly threw herself back behind cover as two shots scraped past her helmet.

“What do we do?”

“You could always surrender,” Poe said. 

Jeb rushed away from the corner as a blaster bolt burned the sand beneath his head, glaring at Poe. “I swear to God, man—”

“Yeah it’s mutual, man,” Poe interrupted. 

“We’ll take your ship,” the stormtrooper said. She pointed her rifle around the corner and began firing. Sand tossed around as Jeb snatched the shoulder of Poe’s shirt and wrenched him towards the main door. Sliding it open, he hauled Poe inside and threw him towards the seats in the back. Poe landed on the floor, catching himself awkwardly with his hands before turning around.

“If I see you get up I’m gonna shoot one of your legs off,” Jeb threatened before opening the cockpit. A smile on the edge of Poe’s lips formed when Jeb turned rigid, as if struck by a lightning bolt from the ground, traveling from his toes to his neck. 

In front of Jeb was broken chances. Broken glass, ruined wiring and panels, small fires. The stormtrooper was behind him and paused at the sight. Not that Poe could see her expression, but he had a rough idea.

“You could always surrender.”

The barrel of the blaster pointed at Poe before the stormtrooper turned her head. Jeb stepped in front of him, his blaster centered on her.

“He’s mine,” Jeb said.

“He is not worth the effort,” the stormtrooper said. She shoved Jeb aside, and Poe didn’t look away as she marched closer. But she had only taken a few steps when two shots cut through her armor at her side and head. Toppling to the ground, her finger squeezed the trigger and Poe ducked. The bolt scraped past his ear, nicking part of it while it singed the hairs on the side of his head.

Poe wondered what he had done to the universe as he bit at the inside of his cheek. The smell of burnt hair was already filling his nose. Shaking his head, Poe looked over at Jeb, who held his blaster close and aimed it at the door. His legs shook beneath him but he stood, a vein bouncing in his neck.

“Now Sihtal, it was nothing personal, man.” 

The ship quivered from the weight as Sihtal stepped aboard. Poe could not see him, hidden by the part of the interior wall that jutted out beside the exit. But Poe saw as a red hand wrapped around the barrel of Jeb’s rifle and wrenched him forward. There was a scared yelp from Jeb and then he was no longer inside the ship. 

Blinking, Poe looked between the stormtrooper and the exit before getting to his feet, cursing as he limped towards the trooper. He bent down, grabbing the blaster, and leaned most of his weight against the wall. 

Aiming the rifle at the two, Poe watched as Jeb hurried back to his feet while Sihtal circled. He had thrown Jeb’s rifle out of reach and had holstered his own. Poe’s rifle lowered. This was not about him at the moment.

Jeb held his hands in front of him, pleading while he tried to create distance between him and Sihtal. “Please, Sihtal, please it wasn’t, I wasn’t, it was just—” 

“It was business, Jeb. I am aware,” Sihtal said. The Kaleesh was unmoved, his stature grounded and greater than that of the pilot. “And we have both made decisions. You may not keep to yours, but I intend to fulfil mine.” 

“Sihtal please,” Poe noticed the way Jeb inched closer to his rifle. “Why can’t we work this out? The stormtroopers are gone, and we still have the pilot. Come on, man, you can’t blame me.”

Sihtal stepped closer.

“No, please, man. Come on, think about it, we can share whatever it is we get off of him. This is Jakku, man. There are no sides.”

Poe watched as Jeb tensed before diving for the blaster. It was in his hand but his time had ended before his finger had found the trigger. Sihtal, towering over Jeb, buried his rifle into Jeb’s stomach and fired twice.

“No sides,” Sihtal said. “Only yourself, friend.”


	4. Chapter Four

Poe readjusted the rifle when Sihtal turned away from his former partner and began to approach. The weight of it was heavy in the crook of Poe’s arm, but he held it as steady as he could.

Sihtal stopped when he was a couple yards away from Poe. “Do you think I am going to kill you?”

Poe grimaced. “No, I don’t. You didn’t shoot me earlier. Doesn’t exactly make me feel any better.”

Sihtal moved closer. “I have medicinal supplies back on my speeder, Commander Dameron. It is Commander, yes?”

Poe sighed. Force, this mission had gone past shit a long time ago. “How much did they offer?”

“Enough for Jeb to gamble. Correctly, since it seems you have caused the First Order some trouble for awhile.”

“What gave that away?” Poe asked, his shoulders sagging. The exhaustion was heavier with intent than his finger on the trigger. He could barely keep himself upright. “It’s not like you haven’t just done the same.”

“They do not know me, nor do they care about me.”

“They all report to superiors. Two of them saw you. You don’t know what they know.”

“Perhaps not. But I believe we can both agree that I am not their target.”

“Look,” Poe said, “I don’t have time for this.”

“You are afraid that I will sell you to the First Order.”

“I’d be a hell of a reconciliation present.”

“If I promised you that, at this moment, I do not intend to do anything, would that relieve any of your feelings?”

Poe tried to stand taller. Tried. The links on his binders jingled from the movement. He glanced over at Jeb, then back at Sihtal. “Maybe.”

“I could remove your restraints, if you wished.”

“Jeb never had the keys?”

“Oh, he had them,” Sihtal said. Sihtal showed them to Poe, dangling them from the tips of his fingers. “I simply have them now.”

“Congratulations, pal. That’s a re— Woah, woah, stop there,” Poe said as Sihtal began to close the distance between them. Sihtal stopped, watching Poe curiously. His eyes were the only part Poe had seen of his face, and Poe was tired of the way they kept studying him.

“You know that your blaster would not stop me from coming over there, Commander.”

Poe put more weight on his left leg, grinding his teeth as he aimed the blaster at Sihtal’s chest. “I may be banged up but my hands work just fine, pal.”

“So I must prove it?”

“Or you could just—” 

Sihtal dashed forward, and Poe fired. The blaster bolt grazed the top of the Kaleesh’s shoulder and a faint grunt escaped with it, but that did not stop him. He pulled the blaster out of his hands and grabbed Poe by his shirt.

He held him high, Poe’s feet dangling above the ground. With bound hands, Poe tried to grab at Sihtal’s arm. Poe noticed up close that Sihtal’s arms were as thick as the Tree’s branches he used to climb on and fall from. His small, chubby hands struggling to find a grip back then. There didn’t seem to be much difference now.

“I would prefer us not to be enemies, Poe,” Sihtal said. “I could drag you, bound and injured as you are, through the desert and deliver you to the First Order if I wished. Or, perhaps I could leave you out here. You would not last.”

Slowly, Sihtal lowered Poe back to the ground. When Poe found his footing, Sihtal grabbed his binder and showed Poe the key again.

“You will not move if I take these off?”

With a scowl still sketched into his face, Poe nodded. A pointed look passed through Sihtal’s mask before he inserted the key. The binders fell from Poe’s wrists and the pilot felt his shoulders loosen a fraction. 

“It will be a moment, do not go anywhere.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Poe said as Sihtal rounded the rear end of the broken freighter and headed up the crest. 

When he disappeared from sight, Poe limped over and picked up the blaster before easing himself down onto the edge of the ship’s entrance. The exterior lights on the ship stretched through the darkening sky, illuminating Jeb. The fiery remains of the stormtrooper’s vessel were beginning to burn out.

Leaning his head against the wall, the tension that had pinched his limbs slipped away, leaving him to sag from drained energy. The stress had buried itself deep enough into the muscle that it was embedded into his bones. 

His breathing drifted into a slow rhythm, and Poe didn’t resist when his head started to hang down. Tucked against his chest, his chin bumped against burnt skin, pulling out a soft grunt from the back of his throat. The cool metal of the ship pressed against his scalp, and Poe watched the fires of the other ship diminish until his eyes closed.

“Help!”

Poe’s head shot up, the butt of the blaster tucked against the crook of his shoulder as he stared out into the night. He saw nothing in the dark.

“Poe!”

“Finn?” Poe slowly stood up, his rifle drooping in his arms as he failed to spot the former stormtrooper.

“Poe, help!”

His heart stopped when he looked at the smoldering pile of metal.

“Help!”

Scrambling off of the freighter, Poe stumbled on his hands and knees before reaching the remains.

“Finn? Finn can you hear me?” Poe yanked his hand back from the smoking rubble.

“Poe,” Finn said. God his voice was so quiet, yet it rang in his ears.

“No, no, no, Finn hang on,” Poe dropped his blaster. Gritting his teeth, he pulled at the pieces of wreckage. The skin on his hands burned, the heat pushing through his calluses.

“Come on!” Poe shouted as he stumbled back, shaking his hands against the cool air. Steam swirled off of the metal.

Stepping away, Poe’s hands collected into tight fists at his side. His left fingers curled in and out, hesitation beneath his tapping toes. He inhaled before he slowly raised his hand, reaching forward. The Tree settled in the back of his mind. Its roots grounded him, wrapping around him as they dug further into the soil.

Tentatively, Poe reached out. He remembered the stories of Luke. He had seen Leia, flicking her hand out and causing change while she caught him watching in awe, a knowing smile on her face.

He tried to mimic the way her fingers had stretched out from her palm, his arm taut like a branch jutting out from the trunk. Every fiber in his being strained itself, willing the universe to take notice and clear the demolished ship. To lift the pieces and the veil that Poe had felt in the back of his head for years. To save Finn.

Poe’s breath caught in his throat when the wreckage rose into the air. The scraps of metal danced above him, and Poe couldn’t feel his heart in his chest. Hanging in the air, Poe looked around at the hunks of twisted metal. They began to quiver in place, as if fighting against an intense pressure. 

“Fuckin-” Poe ducked as they shot off from their seats in the sky, dispersing themselves throughout the desert. He watched them plummet to the ground before his eyes rested on the empty spot in front of him.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood.

“You think you could do that, pilot?”

“You got enough black on your outfit?” Poe asked as he turned around. With the vein in his neck furiously pulsing, he swallowed the lump in his throat and stared down Kylo Ren. 

“You believed that you could use the Force,” Ren said. “How quaint.”

“People believe in things,” Poe said. He marched towards Kylo Ren. “What do you believe in? Killing innocent people in cold blood? Torturing people? You’re full of shit!” Poe shoved at him, but Ren did not budge. He could make out parts of his battered face in the silver linings of the mask that stared down at him.

“You’re just a pilot. Grounded. You’re not special down here. You’re weak.” Thrusting one arm against Poe’s chest, he knocked the pilot down. Poe tried to get back to his feet but Ren, crouching beside him, kept his hand against Poe’s chest. It was a heavy weight, like stones, pressing against his chest and slowly crushing his lungs. 

“The Resistance will fall. Just like you, Commander. No one, no thing, can stop it.”

“You’re wrong,” Poe grunted. 

“No,” Ren pressed harder against Poe’s chest, and Poe swore he could feel Ren’s fingers forcing through his skin and scraping against his bones. “I’m not. All your friends will die. All the people you gave false hope to. The only thing that won’t, will be your suffering. The guilt because you gave your secrets to me.”

“No,” Poe muttered, groaning as Ren’s grip tightened.

“Yes,” Ren said. “You abandoned them, and they are small and defenseless. Just like you.”

Ren stood up, releasing Poe. Air slipped into his lungs and he turned over on the sand. Working to his hands and knees, Poe chest ached with each breath he took. His hands twisted into fists, the grains of sand caught between his fingers. 

“You will lose your mind out here,” Ren said. Poe looked up at him, fists tightening as a wave of lightheadedness passed over him. 

“Or perhaps you already have.”

“You’re gonna lose a lot more when I find you,” Poe growled.

The pain inched forward in his head, and Poe’s stomach dropped. Ren, digging through his head. Poe’s arms shook, and then he was on his side. This was not Ren searching, this was the intentional infliction of pain.

“No,” Poe snarled, hands holding his head. 

“Never forget how small you are compared to me, Commander.”

The memories and the pain twisted through his head. The chair. His mom and Luke, watching. The Tree. Finn. Crashing. The Kaleesh. Everything washed over him while Ren dug further and further. The pain burned in such an intensity that Poe imagined a knife dipped in ice going through every point in his skull.

Poe’s hand lashed out, as it had in the first dream, and he focused on Ren with an intense clarity he had not felt in days.

The pain froze, and Ren stilled.

“You still believe you have this ability?”

“I don’t give a shit if I can,” Poe said while he fought for each breath. Beads of sweat covered his forehead and trailed down his face. “And I don’t give a shit about you.”

A hand touched his shoulder. “Poe.”

Poe jumped, throwing a punch before he even looked. His blow was easily caught, and they held his hand in a careful grip. “I had hoped we were past dealing blows.”

Poe’s eyes went around Sihtal, towards the stormtrooper’s destroyed ship. The flames of the wreckage had died, leaving behind tall trails of smoke that disappeared into the night above.

“And I’d hoped I’d wake up somewhere else,” Poe said as his shoulders sagged. Sihtal released his hand and Poe idly stretched his fingers. Crouching down to meet Poe’s level, Sihtal stared at Poe, and Poe met his eyes.

“As much as I love these little moments between us,” Poe said, “I’d prefer it if we’d move on to something a little more productive.”

“As you wish.”

Sihtal stood back up, and Poe tried to ease the quick flutter in his stomach at the memory of Ren towering over him earlier. The Kaleesh walked over to the speeder and picked up a medium bag made of a worn, brown fabric.

Setting his bag down beside Poe, Sihtal sat on the ground. Poe watched as Sihtal rummaged through it, a few items clinking against each other.

“Pull your pant leg up, Commander,” Sihtal said without looking up. He pulled out a canister and placed it beside the bag. He looked at Poe through the corner of his eye when he hadn’t moved. “Please,” the Kaleesh added.

Poe rolled the fabric up his leg slowly, grimacing as he caught sight of the bruising that ran up to his knee. The color was stronger, sharp and distinct in its deep shades of purple and green. 

Sihtal moved over to Poe’s right side, carrying gauze and the canister. “Before Jeb left with you in Cratertown, I gathered a few supplies.” He gently looked over Poe’s leg, lightly prodding his calf and staring intensely at his knee. Poe bit back a grunt as Sihtal touched the bruising just below his kneecap. 

“Your kind can be so reckless for such a fragile species.”

“I’ve had worse.”

Sihtal looked up at Poe, and huffed an echo of a laugh at his doubt. Unscrewing the lid of the canister, Sihtal showed the bacta contents to Poe. “I will try not to aggravate your leg too much as I apply this.”

Poe watched as Sihtal lifted the canister and tilted it over his leg. It came out slower than Poe expected it too, and then it spilled out onto his leg. Sihtal spoke as he began to work, spreading the bacta with his hand and grabbing the gauze.

“After we have properly bandaged your injuries, we should go through the ship and recover any rations or supplies. Once it is cleared, we will head for Niima Outpost. We will have a better opportunity for a ship there than in Cratertown. And you may reach out to your rebel friends while we are there.”

Poe cleared his throat as Sihtal tightened the gauze around his leg. He looked at the wrappings that went from his knee to just above his ankle.

Maybe he hadn’t had worse.

“Take your shirt off, please.”

Pulling the dirty, thinning piece of cloth off, Poe studied his torso. Bruising littered his right side, a few healing cuts beneath his neck that Poe couldn’t see but remembered receiving from the ginger asshole. Angry red patches of burned skin were across his shoulders and chest.

“If we had proper facilities I would’ve chosen to submerge you in a bacta tank with one glance,” Sihtal said as he focused on Poe’s torso. “Where does it hurt the most?”

“Ri—yup you got it,” Poe leaned away with a wince as Sihtal nudged at his right side. Sihtal reached into the bacta container and stopped, tilting his head as he examined it. Shaking his head, Sihtal sat back and waved at Poe. 

“Hand me my bag,” he said. Poe reached over and gave it to him. He was still shaking his head. “You tried to run away from our ship in this condition.”

“Well what would you do in my situation, pal?” 

“My claim as a scavenger would be legitimate. We would be in very different situations.”

“Okay, but say you’ve just been through something painful and strange and-” Poe caught himself, sighing in aggravation as he turned his head towards the night sky. He felt Sihtal’s eyes on his face, a brief pause in his movements before he continued wrapping Poe’s bandages.

“What led you here, to Jakku?” Sihtal asked.

“My mission,” Poe glanced down at Sihtal. “Didn’t really go according to plan. I mean, at first it was fine. And then it went to shit. Not once, nope,” Poe shook his head, “I’d say it went to shit about three or four times now.”

Sihtal hummed. “Was it some secret weapon the Resistance was hoping to find out here in the ruins?”

“Something like that,” Poe said.

Sihtal was quiet for a beat. “Something, perhaps, in relation to an astromech droid?”

Poe focused on Sihtal with a celerity he thought he had lost. “What do you know about an astromech droid?”

“The -unit that the First Order placed a bounty on, considerably close to when your own bounty was created. It is not that hard to fathom a connection between the two.” Sihtal looked up at Poe. “Is it yours?”

For a moment, Poe stared back at Sihtal with an indecisive intensity. Finally he nodded, “Yeah, yeah it’s mine.”

“How did you two become separated?” Screwing the lid back on the second canister, Sihtal sat back and peered at Poe expectantly. Poe looked over at Sihtal’s work, the bacta working its way into his skin. He pulled his shirt back on. With one last suspicious glance at Sihtal, he cleared his throat. 

“We were sent to Jakku on a classified mission. No one else from my squadron were designated to go. Just me. We made it here alright but caught trouble on our way out, First Order started attacking and shooting at the civilians. I tried to get out but they damaged the engines on my X-wing. I knew then it wasn’t going to end well, so I told Beebee-Ate to get out and started firing at the stormtroopers. They rounded up the villagers, and killed them all.”

“What village?”

“Tuanul.”

Sihtal seemed taken aback, his shoulders tensing. Poe’s eyebrows scrunched together. “What does it mean to you?”

“That is where the Church of the Force resides,” Sihtal said. He looked up at Poe. “Resided.” Something new was in Sihtal’s eyes.

“You met with Lor San Tekka. That is why you were on Jakku.”

Poe nodded. “You knew him?”

“Well,” Sihtal said. “Tuanul was a place I visited often.”

“You believe in the Force?”

“I believe that there are consequences to everything. Years ago, this planet was one of the final blows dealt to the Empire. And now the First Order have risen from that beast to strike back. I used to speak often with Lor San Tekka about this,” Sihtal rose to his feet, “among other things.”

“I need to find my droid before they do,” Poe said. “It’s why I came back.”

“And instead of finding it, you found me,” Sihtal said, studying Poe. He stuffed one of the canisters back into the bag and closed it. “Jeb and myself, that is.”

Poe glanced over at Sihtal’s former partner. “Do you want to bury him, or something?”

Sihtal did not spare a glimpse over to him. “Jeb has given me everything I need from him. The desert will take care of his body.” The starship shook as Sihtal stepped onboard. “Now help me search for supplies.”

Holding to the doorframe, Poe pulled himself to his feet and headed for the set of cabinets where the water pitcher had been.

“And please do not damage your leg further, I would not want to be tempted to simply take it off altogether.”

“Because that would be better,” Poe muttered as he rifled through the shelves. Portion packets were stacked evenly, though a few had toppled over. Grabbing them, Poe set them on the counter and peeked around the corner into the cockpit. Sihtal was looking over the broken dashboard, jimmying a slim piece of metal between the cracked panel pieces.

Poe watched a moment more before limping over to the compartments beside the row of seats. Opening one, Poe found an extra pair of pants and two shirts poorly folded. Lifting them up, Poe stared at the blaster pistol hidden beneath the two shirts.

“You may take Jeb’s shirts, if they fit you.” Poe jumped back at the sound of Sihtal’s voice. His bag looked significantly larger at his side.

Poe waved his hand over at the counter by Sihtal. “Those are all the portions I found,” he said.

Sihtal picked them up, all of them fitting in his hand. “There’s nothing in there besides personal belongings, most of which are Jeb’s. You are welcomed to his clothing, as I said. I’ll wait by the speeder.” 

Poe watched as Sihtal turned his back to him, and Poe’s eyes glanced towards the blaster. It was a small idea. Sihtal would be expecting payment, and he was certainly the one in control of what was happening. Poe could take the speeder, take the supplies, find a ship and find BB-8. But his hand stayed by his side, and the ship rattled slightly as Sihtal left it behind.

Poe eyed the blaster in guilt. Sihtal hadn’t betrayed him, though he wasn’t saving Poe out of the kindness of his heart. 

Tearing the soiled shirt off of his back, Poe took the folded gray shirt and put it on. He grabbed the blaster, a bit of comfort in his chest settling as he held it. Searching the other two compartments, Poe took in the most barren out of the three with a scrutinizing glance. 

It wasn’t hard to consider that it was Sihtal’s. There were a couple books on the lower shelf, while the other two seemed empty. Poe ran a hand along them, and he pulled his hand back when his fingers hit paper on the shelf above his head. 

Withdrawing it, Poe studied the folded note. He glanced towards the entrance before unfolding it.

His eyes ran over the beginning, and at the sight of Lor San Tekka’s name, Poe folded it back up without reading the rest. Although curiosity slowed his fingers, he slid the note into the back of his pocket and closed the compartment door.

Exiting the freighter, Poe limped over to where Sihtal was waiting beside the speeder. He held the blaster openly in his hand, watching as Sihtal’s eyes went to it and then settled on Poe’s face. There was no move to his own in self-defense.

“So we are agreed to help each other then?”

“Yeah,” Poe said. “We’re agreed.” Extending a hand, Sihtal looked at it curiously before accepting it.

“Then let us find your droid and return you to your Resistance, Commander.”

Climbing onto the speeder, Poe sat in the second seat and held onto the side grips in front of him.

Sihtal ran the engine, which huffed and wheezed and spluttered back into silence. Poe watched as Sihtal leaned forward, his head close to the speeder’s front.

“What did I say last time about this?” Sihtal whispered to the speeder.

He ran the ignition once more, and it snapped to life.

“Very good,” Sihtal patted the side before grabbing the handlebars.“Hold tight.” 

It was the last thing Poe heard before the speeder took off, and everything was drowned out by the rushing air.


	5. Chapter Five

The sun had begun to rise when Sihtal slowed down. Coasting up the final crest, he pulled to a halt atop it.

Poe nearly fell off of the back end as he got off the speeder. Twisting his back slowly and stretching his arms, Poe listened to the cracking of his joints. His arms dropped like weights at his sides, and he stifled a yawn. 

“You worried about turning that thing off?” Poe asked. 

“A bit,” Sihtal said as his fingers rested over the ignition. “But it is not what worries me most.”

Poe followed the turn of Sihtal’s head, spotting the larger outpost in the distance. 

While parts of the outpost appeared untouched, pieces of dilapidated buildings worked into the architecture of the scavenger market, there seemed to be fresh markings that scored the earth and littered the sand with debris. 

Most noticeable was a gate, broken and bent on the sand, guarding chunks of metal scattered in the lot behind it.

“I think you might need to revise your ship plan.”

Sihtal looked over at Poe.

“The mask doesn’t really hide your expression that well.”

“That is not its purpose,” Sihtal said flatly. “Now get on, we should head down.”

“You sure I shouldn’t stay up here?” Poe looked at the town. “I’m a bit of a wanted man.”

“I’m sure you are not the only one,” Sihtal turned in his seat, facing him. “But I would feel it safer to stay together, rather than wait for the scale to tip out of our favor divided.”

Poe cocked an eyebrow. “Was it in our favor earlier?”

“Do you still have two legs?”

Poe laughed, grimacing as he gently placed a hand over his side. “At the moment.” Limping back to the speeder, Poe sat down beside Sihtal.

“You seem in brighter spirits, Commander.”

“Not dying’ll do that,” Poe jested. “And keeping both legs.”

Sihtal said nothing, staring.

“Do you practice not blinking?”

“What did the First Order do to you while you were detained?”

The corner of Poe’s mouth quickly curved downward.

“We came up with secret handshakes and talked about our favorite constellations,” Poe looked away, clearing his throat as if he felt a strained weight against his lungs. “Use your imagination.”

“I am aware of the physicality that you had to endure,” Sihtal said. “I have seen your injuries. But this was not all they did, was it? They did not simply bruise and cut you, that would have mattered little to a stubborn human such as yourself.” Poe stared at the sand, granules scattering with the slight breeze. His hands were tight fists that he rested openly on his thighs, and he knew Sihtal was watching every minute movement. 

“There’s no point in asking because I’m not gonna talk about it,” Poe finally said as he met Sihtal’s gaze. “No offense, buddy, but that’s my business and mine alone. You don’t have to know everything about me, just like I don’t know jack shit about you. You don’t see me asking about what happened to you before we met.”

“Would you like to?”

“No! Kriff’s sake— that’s not the point and you know it.” Poe shook his head. If he had the capability, he’d get up and leave the Kaleesh behind. Yet circumstance had taken his options hostage. Along with his leg.

“These are curious times, Commander. First Order and Resistance pilots falling from the sky. So little does it seem these things happen on chance alone.”

“Yeah I get it, a balance and all that,” Poe huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. The shadows beneath his eyes hung heavy with exhaustion. “Can we just go?”

“Very well,” Sihtal said, his eyes lingering on Poe for a moment more before turning back around in his seat. 

The speeder grudgingly carried them down the slope and towards Niima Outpost. Poe took in a breath as the air filled his ears, relishing in the sensation. It was somewhere between falling and flying, the force of the wind against his face cooler than the beating of the sun’s rays. It was thoughtless, simple. 

Poe craved for a touch of simple.

All too soon the speeder slowed and Sihtal drew to a stop beside the edge of the outpost. Dismounting, he nodded at a creature who was watching from the shade of a canvas cast between two stands. Holes littered it’s surface, and other fabrics in similar condition were placed around the various stalls and booths. Poe saw a few tables in the distance, the glint of metal caught in the light catching his eye.

“That is Constable Zuvio, he maintains the Outpost,” Sihtal told Poe as the Constable approached. He was only slightly shorter than Sihtal, standing over Poe by a few inches. He wore dark green and red armor over a long brown tunic, his eyes peeking out through a scarf of green pulled up to his nose.

“He’s doing a great job,” Poe said. 

The Constable spoke, not in Basic, his eyes flicking between Poe and Sihtal. Sihtal replied in kind and the Constable nodded. Sihtal looked down at Poe.

“There was an incident here with the First Order, targeting a young woman and a young man with a droid.”

“A droid? What did the droid look like?” 

Sihtal turned and asked Zuvio. The Constable stared at Poe, his large green eyes attempting to drill through the pilot’s head, before speaking to Sihtal. 

“Zuvio says it is a Beebee unit the First Order placed a bounty on, brought in by the young woman yesterday.”

Zuvio grumbled a few more words, an odd chirping noise ending his sentence.

“They escaped on an old freighter belonging to Unkar,” Sihtal said. He responded with a few words to Zuvio, who grumbled a bit more. The Constable’s eyes stuck to Poe until he turned on his heel and headed back into the market.

“Am I wrong to presume that the droid Constable Zuvio described is your astromech?”  
“You wouldn’t be wrong,” Poe said. He looked back over to the market, where Zuvio had slipped into the shadows. “He said a woman and a man were with Beebee-Ate?”

“Yes,” Sihtal said. “Do you believe you know them?”

“I’m cautiously optimistic I may know one of them,” Poe said, holding back the bubble of hope in his stomach. Stars, if Finn was alive and he had Beebee-Ate, then the mission wasn’t lost. It would only be a matter of finding them.

“I gotta go after them,” Poe said.

“You will need a ship for that.” Sihtal looked around the outpost, studying the other species as they worked and hassled each other. “Unkar would be the only one in the area with an inkling on how we may obtain one.”

“You think he’s still got some in what, storage?”

“Perhaps,” Sihtal said. “There is only one way to truly know. Follow me.”

Sihtal set off, skirting the edge of the market and following the path that wrapped around its exterior. 

“You’re just gonna leave your speeder here? Why don’t you—” Poe pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head before hurrying after him.

Sihtal’s pace slowed as Poe followed the Kaleesh, as if he heard the small noises of pain that Poe restrained from his stuttered pace. 

Trying to note the locations he had seen from the hill, Poe spotted the destroyed gate as the path curved left. In front of the gate was a large metal structure. It reminded Poe of a gazebo, except larger and made of several mismatching pieces.

“Wait,” Sihtal threw his arm out, stopping Poe in his tracks. Poe watched as Sihtal stared at the structure, his body still as he remained in such an intense focus.

“There is trouble up ahead,” Sihtal said.

“I thought there was nothing but trouble here. What kind of trouble?” Poe asked.

“I do not know,” Sihtal said. He guided Poe a few steps away from the structure and off of the path. “But if we still wish to know about what ships may remain in Unkar’s possession, we must proceed.”

“We?”

“I will go in, you will wait out here,” Sihtal said. Glancing over at the structure, he continued. “It is probably best you find what little rest you can for your body and mind’s sake.”  
“Kind of like how I could’ve just stayed up at the hill, out of sight?”

“Perhaps,” Sihtal said. “But here we are. There is no point to cling to the past now, Commander. More important things are at hand.”

Head tilted up at the Kaleesh, Poe tried to ask another question. 

“And what are you gonna do about—” 

He was interrupted however when Sihtal’s cloak was dropped on top of him. Poe pulled at the excessive amount of fabric that had draped over his body and teased the sand by his feet.

Holding the bundle in his hands, Poe raised an eyebrow in question. “You lose your sense of mystery?”

“And take this,” Sihtal said, ignoring the small jab. He rummaged through his pack and pulled out a clear container, water sloshing inside of it. He handed it to Poe. “You need to stay hydrated.”

Having finished, Sihtal turned and headed for the metal gazebo.

“‘No point to cling to the past’” —Poe scoffed— “he just doesn’t want to admit I was right.” Poe shook his head, sitting down against the edge of the sandstone hut they had moved to. The blaster made a slight sound as it knocked against the stone. Poe kept his eyes on Sihtal as he entered the gazebo.

* * *

Sihtal did not look back to see if Poe had taken this opportunity of separation to run away. Not that the Resistance pilot would be running anytime soon.

It appeared that most of Unkar Plutt’s market had remained untouched, though the parts of the structure closest to the field bore marks and looked more broken than usual. The Blobfish himself was haggling with a young Twi’lek at his counter.

Sihtal chose to circle the small market, idly examining the few stalls allowed inside and the tables where the other scavengers cleaned their finds. One boy with a wire brush scraped at an old piece found inside the cockpit panels of an X-wing, clearing the rust and grime from it with harsh movements. 

Returning towards the front of the market, Poe watched as Unkar passed the young Twi’lek two portions, who snatched them off the counter and ran out of the market.

Unkar admired what the Twi’lek girl had traded away. It was a large piece of machinery, corroded in several places, with intricate markings added onto it.

“And people say I’m not prestigious,” he said. “Come see my gallery, that’s what I’ll tell em. Then they’ll get a load before I turn them abstract!”

“Unkar,” Sihtal gave a slight bow as he called on the Blobfish’s attention.

“Sihtal,” Unkar responded, giving a slight nod of his large head. “Zuvio tells me you’ve replaced Jeb.”

“Jeb betrayed me, so I responded in kind.” Sihtal took a step closer to the Crolute. “I noticed your shipyard appears to be emptier than usual.”

“That kriffin kid that I received all those years ago had a wanted droid in her possession and took off with it on a freighter,” Unkar slammed one of his large hands down on the counter. “The First Order have a warrant out for her and the droid, and some other human that was with her. I’m heading off planet to get back what’s mine soon enough. And a little extra for their capture.”

“You are putting a crew together?”

“I could use someone of your skill,” Unkar said. “And you’ll receive plenty if you do your job well enough.”

“When will you be taking off?”

“You have other plans?”

“I only wish to know the details,” Sihtal said. “If I am to risk my life with my services for you, I must know what my chances are.”

Unkar laughed. “I’ll show you the details.”

The back door to his stand opened and Unkar Plutt headed towards his shipyard. “Follow me.”

Sihtal trailed Unkar by a few steps, glancing back towards the market’s entrance. He tilted his head when he realized that Poe was no longer where he left him, but Sihtal was not moved to action. If the Commander had tried to abandon him, he would find him. 

“There was an airstrike on the outpost, they took out my quadjumper in the process. Soon as I get my money from turning that brat in along with her new friends, I’m gonna get my money’s worth in pay back. You don’t mess with Unkar Plutt’s merchandise!” Unkar declared as he passed through the broken gate.

“I am well aware,” Sihtal agreed, stepping over the debris. 

“This here is the ship we’ll be taking.” A large hand pointed at the tarp covered starship. “Nug! Nug, pull the tarp down!” 

A IW-37 pincer loader droid ran up to the starship, using its single hand to grasp the tarp. It struggled as it moved back, the tarp resisting its pull at first. But the droid managed with a successful tug, sending it and the tarp to the ground.

“It’s a surprise you haven’t been broken down into more useful pieces,” Unkar muttered before turning his attention back to Sihtal.

“She’s a U-wing, one of the later models, so not too run down. Plenty of room for myself and the rest of the crew for when we head out.”

Sihtal approached the ship, running a hand over the cool exterior. The ship itself was in surprisingly pristine condition, very few scratches or marks running along its external paneling.

“Where did you acquire it?”

“You’ll never guess,” Unkar said. He took a step back and Sihtal’s hand rested on the handle of his blaster.

“All it cost me was you and your new friend.”

There was little time between when Unkar had finished speaking and when the blaster bolts shot overhead. Sihtal ducked and drew his own blaster, firing at the stormtroopers that stood on the other side of the U-wing’s extended front.

But a blaster placed against the back of his head sent a binding tension into his spine, stilling his finger on the trigger. 

“I’d appreciate it if you’d drop that,” the stranger said behind him. Sihtal, keeping his hands raised, crouched down and set his blaster into the sand. He began to turn around, but the man pushed the blaster harder against his head and stopped.

“Ah, ah. Stay still. Where’s the other one?”

“Somewhere nearby, would be my guess,” Unkar Plutt said. “My resources told me he looked injured so he can’t have gone anywhere far.”

“Your guess?” The man said.

“They were both where I told you, whether or not you manage to capture both of them isn’t my problem. I got too many of my own problems right now to care,” Unkar grumbled.

“Do you? Keep your blasters aimed,” the superior officer ordered before the blaster left Sihtal’s head. There was a shot, and Sihtal watched as the IW-37’s legs, which had pedaled in the air in a failed attempt to stand up, froze. The blaster returned to Sihtal’s head, hot against his skin.

“If you don’t find the other one, the one that matters, then you’ll find that your current problems aren’t shit. Now,” the First Order officer returned his attention to Sihtal, “if you could.”

A hand reached up and grabbed Sihtal’s shoulder, unwittedly clenching the blaster wound that Poe had delivered, and Sihtal hid the gritting of his teeth beneath his mask as the officer led him away from the ship. Forcing Sihtal to his knees, he turned his attention to his underlings.

“RB-2878 and RT-5419, guard him. If he moves, take a limb.”

“Yes sir, Lieutenant Marelle, sir.” They saluted and ran over to Sihtal, one standing in front of him while the other took the officer’s place behind him. Sihtal was rather aware of both of the blaster rifles aimed on either side of his head.

The First Order lieutenant came around to stand in front of Sihtal. He was not a very tall man, perhaps a couple inches taller than Poe. He seemed young, with a head of dark blond hair kept short and hard brown eyes. There was an odd scar on the bridge of his nose, which reached out to the edge of his eyebrow.

“Where did you put him?”

Sihtal pointed back towards the street. “I put him outside of Unkar’s structure, just on the outskirts of the path. It would have been too dangerous to bring him along.”

“Telling the truth? You do know you are on Jakku, right?” Marelle peered at Sihtal’s mask, focusing on his unblinking eyes. “And here I thought manners had died with the rest of them. But, if I were to go out and look where you point, it would be likely I wouldn’t find him there, would I?”

“That would be unlikely,” Sihtal said. “It seems compliance is a missing quality in his repertoire.”

“Unlike you, it seems.” The lieutenant grinned. “TZ-7945, go and take your two, search where the Kaleesh described. If you find him, bring him back to me. Alive, if you can.”

Turning to face Unkar, who had remained rooted to the earth with a furious shaking, the officer addressed him next. “Put your little outpost on alert, if you could, Blobfish.”

Unkar muttered under his breath as he marched out of the shipyard, sending a quick glare in Marelle’s direction before he left.

“Now that that’s all settled,” he, took a few steps, idly looking out at the expansive property.

Sihtal watched as he seemed to examine the space around them before returning over towards him. He bent down, meeting Sihtal at eye level. He sighed, shaking his head.

“Do you ever miss the days people could sit down and have a civil conversation?”

“Such as the one we are having right now?”

“Well being held at gunpoint would change your perspective,” Marelle said with a wave. He continued.“Nevertheless, I’m sure both of us would’ve preferred this conversation somewhere else.”

“The circumstances standing, I may have preferred for this conversation to never take place.” 

“Oh I disagree,” he smiled, “I’ve been looking forward to this meeting.”

“Not with me, I presume.”

“You? No, though you seem nice enough.” He stood up straight, adjusting his uniform. “The most civil conversation I’ve ever had with someone at gunpoint. No cursing, no glaring. In Jakku, of all places.”

“Some would consider this planet a holy place,” Sihtal said.

“A holy place?” a light chuckle left the lieutenant. “I guess, if you’re into that.”

“Lieutenant Marelle!”

Bringing his communicator to his face, he cleared his throat before speaking.

“TZ, what is your report?”

The stormtrooper’s voice fizzled to life from the other end. “This is Rambles, sir. We found Dameron in the market but he managed to escape, taking off on a speeder. It appears he’s headed south.”

“Then we’ll pursue him, in his condition he won’t last long. What happened to TZ?”

“We encountered Dameron, he shot TZ before he slipped away.”

Marelle hummed. “Congrats on the promotion, Rambles. Return to the shipyard.” 

He turned to the two stormtroopers. “We’ll get on the ship and prepare for takeoff. Bring the Kaleesh.”

The stormtroopers’ fingers were set on the triggers as Sihtal got to his feet, towering over all three of the First Order soldiers.

“How do you know of Dameron’s condition?” Sihtal asked the officer as they made their way to the ship.

“The man was tortured physically. And then by Kylo Ren, no less. And then his stolen fighter crashed. If he was in any stable condition it would only be because he was dead.”

Sihtal paused in his steps. He had heard of Kylo Ren before, in muddled rumors passed on through quenched lips. A nightmarish figure, standing in the shadow of Vader’s twisted legend.

Sihtal continued walking, the agitation and nerves of the stormtroopers like small needles jabbing into his sides, encouraging his compliance. Yet his ease refused to settle the heavy unease that had coiled tight in their bellies. Skittish behind their power.

Three shots fired in quick succession, one striking the rear stormtrooper while the second and third shots grazed the other before hitting the sand. The first trooper collapsed on the ground, the other dropping to his hands and knees.

Sihtal reached for Marelle’s blaster, but the lieutenant had honed in on Sihtal by the first shot, slamming the weapon against the side of the scavenger’s head. There was a distinct crack from the collision of the metal against his mask. 

Stumbling back, Sihtal used what focus he had to remain on two legs, his hand reaching up to his mask. Seconds were lost to Sihtal in the stupor his mind was in from the lieutenant’s swift reaction. 

As quickly as he could, Sihtal recovered to his full height and turned to face Marelle. But the soldier was already beside him, and he drove his foot into Sihtal’s abdomen the moment he had turned.

Falling onto his back, Sihtal struggled to process the amount of force the lieutenant utilized. For a man of his size, compared to himself, there should have been an advantage more upon his side. 

It seemed the universe was to disagree, however.

Marelle took two steps, his blaster aimed steady at Sihtal’s head, when a shot cut through the space between them.

“Hey!” Poe snapped. Both Marelle and Sihtal turned their stares away from each other towards the Resistance pilot. 

“I thought this was about me.”


	6. Chapter Six

Poe sat, his elbow resting on his knee while his hand shielded his eyes from the sun. With his right leg outstretched, and caught in a brief pause from the action, Poe tried to collect his bearings.

The pain along his leg had simmered, low and hot while they traveled on the speeder. But once Poe had begun to walk around, it turned harsh and biting with each step. Now, stretched out on the sun, the thought of a stew crossed his mind. The blend of bacta and sweat beneath the gauze slowly boiling alongside the damaged muscle. He wouldn’t call it a pleasant thought, by any means.

A couple scavengers passed by him on the path, casting lingering glances over their shoulders. He kept his hand over his eyes, turning his head away. There was no pause in their steps, and soon enough they were out of sight. 

Poe considered trying to find a communications system, anything that would allow him to reach out to Leia. A quick shudder ran over his spine, remembering hearing her voice as if she had been whispering into his ear.

Uncapping the bottle, Poe took a long drink. All the little pains nagged at him. His body craved rest. 

A flash of a black cloak passing in front of Poe caused him to jump, sending quick snaps of pain in his bones as he made a move to run. He stilled when he realized that it was only another scavenger, who had not paused at Poe’s reaction but rather continued on her way.

The frightened energy that had seized Poe’s lungs was released with a slow breath. Slumping against the wall, frustrations replaced fright and Poe shook his head.

He took another drink from the bottle before capping it. Poe looked from the Blobfish’s cavernous market to the open stalls. 

Using the wall behind him, Poe worked his way back to his feet. He took a moment to stand, tentatively testing the weight on his right leg. Not that it was any better off from when he had sat down. 

With a quick flourish he pulled the cloak around him, the large hood engrossing his head with room to spare. He hooked the water to one of the belt loops on his pants.

Crossing the street, Poe entered the open market. There were a few scavengers mingling about the sparsely spread stalls. 

His focus was diverted between Unkar’s lot in the distance and the varying commodities laid out on the tables lining the market. Poe’s fingers itched to examine the engine parts from an X-wing, an older A-wing model piece beside them, and the others that he was unfamiliar with spaced out on the table.

But his excitement was spoiled when he saw Sihtal emerge from Unkar’s cavern and into the shipyard, trailing the Blobfish. 

Poe moved further down the market, giving an apologetic glance at the older parts. His steps were fast but he quickly slowed once he reached the edge of cover. Standing, he watched as the two went over to a ship hidden beneath a tarp. He recognized the familiar outline of a U-wing, a decent gunship when caught in the middle of a pinch.

A droid pulled the tarp off and Sihtal moved closer to examine it. Even from such a distance Poe could tell it was in good condition, to his surprise. 

Poe spotted the distinguishable form of a First Order officer’s uniform as the man walked almost casually over to the back of Sihtal, the blaster at his side. Sihtal turned, but he was stopped as the man pressed the blaster against his head.

The breath held in his lungs as he waited for the officer to fire, but he didn’t. The stormtroopers came out from the other side of the U-wing, and Sihtal was guided away from the ship and onto his knees. 

Taking a couple steps back, Poe watched as Sihtal pointed towards the street, where he had been sitting only a few moments ago. The officer turned to the troopers and they saluted before marching away.

“Great,” Poe muttered. He looked at Sihtal for a moment, the remaining two stormtroopers aiming their blaster rifles at him from either side, and turned around and back into the gathered crowd.

Each weighted step he put on his right leg was another bite into the damaged muscle. His pace was slow, and awkward, and Poe wished at that moment he had a secret third robotic leg. Or maybe just a non-damaged leg. Because the stormtroopers were not beside the barren wall where he had rested, but rather they were entering the market. One held a hologram, showing off Poe’s likeness to the few scavengers around.

Poe pulled his hood tighter over his face and moved further away from the spot where he had watched, creating a larger distance between him and the stormtroopers. 

But the three of them had working legs, and as Poe looked over his shoulder he saw that they were growing closer.

After a few more steps, he glanced back and saw as they talked to one of the stall owners, one of the stormtrooper’s helmet snapping towards his direction. Facing forward, Poe kept his pace, his hand sliding towards his back and latching onto the blaster.

There was no shouting or demands, but the increased sound of muffled speech and the movement of their armor was enough to alert Poe that they were closing the distance. He had reached the end of the market, the speeder bike only a building away, when the Constable stepped out.

Poe stopped in his tracks, his head quickly looking back and forth between the approaching troopers and Zuvio.

“I can’t just have one good day, can I?” He asked as he looked up at the Constable. They chirped in their language and Poe nodded halfheartedly.

“Thought so.”

Drawing his blaster, Poe dropped out of range of the Constable’s sweeping arms and rolled across the dirt. He stumbled to his feet, keeping his weight off of his right leg, and fired over Constable Zuvio at the stormtroopers. The Constable, throwing himself out of the way of the blaster bolts, crashed into one of the stalls. 

There was a startled shout cut short as one of the bolts crashed into one of the stormtrooper’s chest, launching them past their compatriots. Poe’s eyes went from the blaster to the equally surprised troopers before turning on his heel.

“Come on, come on,” Poe growled under his breath as he awkwardly hobbled with the greatest urgency his adrenaline could muster. It had only taken the move into action that had quickly reminded Poe of the harsh strain that was already on his body.

Shots danced above his head, knocking against the cracked stone of the buildings that formed a brief alley. 

Poe tossed himself towards the safety of coverage, scrambling away from the corner as shots continued to fire.

Panting, Poe looked up at relief at the speeder. The relief quickly froze on his face as he and a Twi’lek girl locked eyes, one of her hands tight on a wrench while the other held the exterior paneling over the engine open.

“Um,” Poe said, blinking. He looked back towards the corner before quickly focusing back on the young girl. “Do you want that?”

She tilted her head slightly, snapping the paneling closed. “Yes?”

“Okay, cool.” Poe took off Sihtal’s cloak and held it out for the girl. “But you gotta wear this, and you gotta move fast. Can you do that?”

Recognition burst onto her face. “You’re that guy! The pilot!”

“Yup, that’s right. You wanna do me a favor, or you gonna turn me in?”

“You know you’re worth a lot of portions,” she said.

Poe looked back at the corner. “But I’m offering you a speeder you don’t have to steal and a cool cloak. That’s cool, right?”

She looked up at him, her face scrunched up in thought. She shrugged.

“Yeah, alright,” she said as she took the cloak.

“Great, I’ll start it for you.” Poe walked over to the speeder as she tossed the cloak over her shoulders. It completely enveloped her body and the sand around her, dragging by a few inches. And Poe had thought it had been big on him.

Sitting on the speeder, Poe checked the front console quickly before starting the engine. It came to life, then spluttered out.

“I really don’t have time for this,” Poe muttered, patting the side. “Come on, work with me here.” He turned it over and it hummed beneath him, rumbling as it kept running.

“Oh thank the Force,” Poe ran a hand over his face and quickly got off, offering the seat to the Twi’lek.

“It’s all yours, kid,” Poe said. 

“I’m assuming they’re gonna come after me now,” she remarked as she got on the speeder.

“Nah, I’ll stop them before they can.” Poe patted her on the arm and gave a quick salute. “Thanks for your help kid!”

Poe dashed towards the other corner of the building, ducking behind it. He looked back towards the market and saw that the remaining troopers were crossing the street, the Constable in tow.

The kid revved the engine, as if in pure delight. Poe knew the feeling all too well. They rushed through the alley and the kid took off into the desert. Blaster bolts followed her but she was long gone.

“Damnit,” one of the troopers cursed as they watched her cloaked figure disappear over the crest.

“Let the lieutenant know,” the other said.

The stormtrooper nodded, clearing his throat.

“Lieutenant Marelle,” he said into the communicator.

“TZ,” the voice on the other end responded. “What is your report?”

The stormtrooper looked over at his companion, who shrugged. “This is Rambles, sir. We found Dameron in the market but he managed to escape, taking off on a speeder. It appears he’s headed south.”

The commanding voice on the other line was quick to return. “Then we’ll pursue him, in his condition he won’t last long. What happened to TZ?”

“We encountered Dameron, he shot TZ before he slipped away.”

There was a slight pause in the lieutenant’s response. “Congrats on the promotion, Rambles. Return to the shipyard.”

“Yes sir!” Rambles said before closing the communicator. He pocketed it and turned to his partner. “Let’s go.”

Poe’s finger twitched on the trigger. He breathed in through his nose and squeezed, firing four rounds at the stormtroopers and Constable Zuvio. Two struck Rambles, sending the stormtrooper to the ground, the other joining him from a shot that collided with his helmet.

The fourth round grazed Zuvio’s leg, and they growled and, even though Poe couldn’t translate, he had a rough idea of what Zuvio meant as he chirped and hissed in his language.

He fired once more but Zuvio fell back, dodging the shot. Grinding his teeth, Poe moved around the corner and stood over the Constable, each other’s blasters pointing at the other.

Neither exchanged a word as they stared each other down.

Poe dropped out of the way as the Constable fired. Landing on his side, with two hands Poe held his blaster and returned fire, striking the Constable and knocking him into the building’s back wall. He did not move.

Groaning as he got to his hands and knees, Poe looked over at the Constable, and then at the two stormtroopers. He bowed his head for a moment. Poe wasn’t sure he could define the feelings, but the pit in his stomach was heavy.

“Come on, Commander,” Poe grumbled to himself as he got to his feet. Limping over to the Constable, Poe stared at the body before gently slipping the blaster out of Zuvio’s hand.

“I’m sure you got me good in another world,” Poe said.

Poe gave one more glance towards the stormtroopers, then paused as he was about to turn around. Carefully, Poe made his way over to the two. 

Looking over their armour, Poe frowned. The pieces between the two looked similar, but there was something odd between their appearance at a close distance. Getting onto his knee, Poe ran a hand over the chest plates of each. 

“Different material,” Poe murmured. He wouldn’t call that uniform. Working his way back to his feet, Poe looked down at the two before turning on his heel.

Sticking to the back of the buildings that lined the street, Poe glanced through the first alley to spot turned heads curiously staring where the brief firefight had taken place. He skirted past, putting distance between the scene and himself before deciding to cut through the buildings and through the street. He kept his head down, and soon enough he was outside Unkar’s market.

Briefly he looked inside, no sign of the Blobfish, only sellers and scavengers lost in their cycle. Poe studied them for a moment more before heading towards the shipyard.

He ducked behind a piece of the fence that bordered the large area, and as he glanced inside he spotted Sihtal. The Kaleesh stood tall compared to the humans that surrounded him, including the man who walked in front of him.

Dressed in a First Order uniform, the man was oddly relaxed. Unlike his subordinates, who were tense as they guided Shital towards the U-wing.

And man was it a good looking U-wing. Poe nearly lost his train of thought at the sight of the ship. It was well-preserved, barely chipped along its exterior which shone in the sunlight with the pride created from good care.

As the ramp dropped, the ship door sliding open, Poe snapped out of his wondrous stupor and entered the clearing. He approached, his feet sinking into the sand with each step. The lieutenant’s foot was on the ramp when Poe steadied his legs, his aim, and fired three bolts from the blaster.

They ran into the stormtroopers, dropping one while the other fell to their knees. But the lieutenant, to Poe’s surprise, did not lose himself to the surprise. He had immediately targeted Sihtal, preventing the Kaleesh from stealing the lieutenant’s blaster.

Poe hurried towards the two, watching in growing bewilderment as the human, as far as Poe could tell, continued to best Sihtal. The Kaleesh appeared to be just as confused, and he was knocked to the ground from a painful-looking blow Lieutenant Marelle delivered to his abdomen.

The blaster was aimed at Sihtal’s head when Poe fired, the bolt screeching as it left his weapon and flew through the space between the two.

“Hey!” Poe snapped, drawing both of their attention. “I thought this was about me.”

“Poe Dameron,” Marelle said with a smile. “It’s nice to finally see you in the flesh.”

Great. He’s smiling. “Finally?”

“Yes, finally.” 

Poe looked between Marelle and Sihtal. “Cool. You think you can hand over my friend there? Maybe we can talk another time ‘in the flesh’, or whatever.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to talk, because you’re coming with me.”

“That’s not happening,” Poe said. “Don’t mean to crush your weird ‘in the flesh’ dreams or anything, but I’ve got places to be.”

“Droids to find?” Marelle smiled again. His tone was no different than if he was shooting the breeze with his fellow officers. Poe would’ve almost preferred arrogant spluttering at this point. “Did you find what you were looking for out here, by the way? Or did you lose that too?”

The lieutenant shook his head, Poe’s lips a thin line on his face. 

“You are barely keeping yourself together, aren’t you? Not even at the seams. Barely a thread. I was onboard the Destroyer. I heard you, when Ren paid you a visit. I’ve seen his results before. He’s pretty good. So come on,” Marelle’s face was contorted into a dubious look as he eyed the Resistance pilot’s stance. “Let’s not waste each other’s time with games. Come with me, I’ll release the Kaleesh, and we can call it a day.”

Poe eyed the lieutenant uneasily, his hand readjusting its grip on the blaster.

“You fought well,” Marelle added, waving a hand, “and all that. If that makes you feel any better.”

“Thanks,” Poe said.

“No problem.”

There was a tense silence that filled the space between the three.

Marelle sighed, staring at Poe’s raised blaster vexingly. He looked down at Sihtal. “I didn’t realize he was this,” Marelle idely waved in Poe’s direction, “Rebellious?”

“I did warn you,” Sihtal said.

Marelle nodded. “You’re not wrong. Now, RB.”

A shot was fired from the stormtrooper who had fallen to their knees, minute tendrils of smoke still escaping from the impact of the shots that had glanced their armour. Poe had no time to react as the blue light crashed into him, knocking him to the ground.

* * *

Sihtal watched as the stormtrooper fired, and as he turned his head he caught the last moment of Poe thrown to the ground by the blow.

“Good shot,” Marelle said. “To be honest I wasn’t sure if you could pull that off. But color me impressed. Go get him and secure him on board. We’re done here.”

The stormtrooper saluted and headed towards Poe.

“Now,” Marelle said, looking down at Sihtal. He squinted. “Looks like the cracks aren’t too bad. You might be able to even fix that. Unless you’re into keeping it that way.”

“I am assuming that you are saying I am free to go, then?”

“Hm? Oh, you’re of no interest to me. No offense. But I have what I came here for.” The lieutenant looked around, quirking an eyebrow at the fallen stormtrooper beside the ship. “Although the losses were a bit more than I had planned.”

“What is going to happen to him?”

Marelle shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

The stormtrooper returned, Poe tossed over their shoulder. Marelle took a step away from Sihtal, and the Kaleesh sat further up as the distance grew between the two.

“Thank you, for your cooperation,” Lieutenant Marelle saluted with a grin as his subordinate carried Poe into the U-wing. The ramp slid back into the ship’s side and Sihtal watched as the door began to close.

Sihtal began to get to his feet, surprise capturing him as his legs refused to support him on the first effort. He stayed on the ground for a moment, breathing in and out. The blows the lieutenant had dealt, the pain, was still buried deep beneath his skin. Trace amounts of fear lingered above them, but Sihtal washed them away as he exhaled.

The ship’s engine came to life and Sihtal looked over at the gleaming U-wing. Slowly, it grew louder until it began to lift off the ground.

Poe had come back for him. The pilot could have taken the speeder and escaped. But he came back.

Standing up to his full height, Sihtal frowned. The two would have a discussion about it later, Sihtal had no doubt in his mind. 

The wings were retracting for flight configuration. Sihtal pulled out his dagger. 

Two hypocrites having a very long discussion, Sihtal decided.

* * *

“Set him on the table, make sure to secure him,” Marelle ordered as the door closed behind them.

“I know, I know, I’m on it boss.” 

“Are you sure that’s not lieutenant?” Marelle asked with a grin from the cockpit. He took off his cap and started the engine, adjusting with the switches on the flight console.

The supposed stormtrooper took off her helmet, pulling at the neck of the chest plate. 

“Yeah, you’re a lieutenant. And I’m the Supreme Leader,” she joked as she tightened the straps over the Resistance pilot.

“Hey, I earned this uniform.”

“I don’t think stealing your superior officer’s dry cleaning counts as earning.”

“To each his own.”

Stepping back, she examined him. “He’s not too bad looking when he’s not shooting at you.”

“If you say so,” Marelle said. “I don’t think Rambles and Zari would say the same right now.” The ship rattled as it lifted off the ground. 

The woman in the stormtrooper armor began taking it off, relishing the freedom from the suit. “You think it was safe to leave that other guy alive?”

“Nobody on this planet is going anywhere, Rheez.” Marelle unbuttoned the top button on his lieutenant’s uniform. “And besides, everyone here is more invested in their own lives than someone else’s.”

“You sure that’s just a Jakku thing?”

“You got the rough idea,” Marelle said. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“Let’s,” Rheez agreed, taking a seat beside Marelle. The ship began to shift into flight configuration, the wings on the side contracting and altering their shape. 

They were well above the ground when the ship groaned awkwardly. The two glanced at each other.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry for the late update, I'm trying my best to keep to every Sunday but last week lowkey sucker-punched me with a whole lot of work and school so I wasn't able to. But either way, I hope you enjoy!

Poe has had very few surprises in his life. There was his birthday party back on Yavin IV that his parents had thrown him. When he got to meet Leia, when he was offered to join the Resistance and make a real difference. But, he’d have to say waking up in the middle of a crashing ship strapped to a table and only half-conscious would be a bit more surprising than his sixth birthday party back home.

Alarms chirped and panicked as Poe worked his way back to the world, grogginess clinging to his eyes and mind. He tried to sit up, but was stopped by straps that ran across his chest and legs.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Poe groaned as he dropped his head back. His mind wrapping tighter around reality, he tensed at the familiar sensation of a crashing ship.

The ship groaned as its exterior began to warp and struggle against the turbulence. The voices in the cockpit bickered, wrestling as the sound of the crashing ship grew louder around them.

“Starting now,” one said, “we kill everyone.”

“I’m sorry that I tried to not kill someone one time.”

“That’s one time too many, Marelle!”

There was a sharp dip in the ship’s trajectory, and Poe’s hands went to the sides, clinging to the sturdy metal. His spine pressed tight to the surface while his insides twisted like a bottle cap.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Fixing my problem, just give me a minute,” the lieutenant said. Poe craned his head to watch as he walked through the cockpit doorway and stopped beside the loading door. Marelle turned his head to look over at Poe.

He grinned. “Best hold tight, Poe.”

The door slid open and Marelle, as if unmoved by the extreme wind, exited. Poe looked on in disbelief, having not seen Marelle fall down to the quickly approaching earth.

An odd thud outside of the U-wing drew Poe’s attention, his eyes staring at the ceiling in confusion, and it was the last thing Poe heard before the ship crashed.

* * *

“You’re so strong.” Poe leaned into the touch of his mom’s hand against his cheek. Her hands were calloused, a survivor’s hands, but Poe didn’t mind the feeling. “You know that?”

Larger hands wrapped around Poe’s sides and lifted him up, a smile passing over his mom’s faint face. Poe was placed onto his dad’s shoulders, his small legs lightly bumping against his chest.  
“He gets it from his mom, that’s why,” Kes said. “And that’s where he got his good looks.” What’d you even get from me, pal?”

Poe’s hands ran over his dad’s head. It was longer than the old photos his mom had shown him from when they had first met.

“Your sweet tooth?” Poe guessed. Kes laughed, shaking his head before tilting it up to try and look at Poe. Poe giggled and looked down from his perch, his forehead bumping against his dad’s.

“Good to know I at least gave you something. How’s mom doing?”

“Mom’s doing fine,” she said with a light smile. Her eyes went from Kes’s face to Poe’s.

Even now, even then, the sadness in them stuck in Poe’s head. He didn’t understand it then. But lost in the memory, the light squeeze of his dad’s hands around his ankles, he understood well enough.

Sitting against the Tree, Poe rested his head against the bark. It hummed, and Poe tried to find the pitch in his own throat. A beautiful day bled through the branches and warmed his face, tickled his hair.

Then branches wrapped around his arms and immobilized him. Poe opened his eyes, biting back the sudden fear as he spotted the dark-coated figure.

“Where is it?”

“The only thing you need to worry about finding,” Poe said through cracked lips, blood trailing down his chin, “is a better sense of fashion, General. Are you guys really that afraid of using some color?”

“And what are you afraid of, scum?”

The general’s smug expression was prominent on top of his pale complexion. Poe glared back, the smallest of a smirk on his pained face.

“You wasting my time, for starters.”

The distorted voice behind him quickly followed. “Do you believe your time to be valuable?”

“Or,” it continued, approaching from the rear. The hairs on the back of Poe’s neck stood rigid. “Perhaps you know that your time doesn’t matter. That there is no value to you or your efforts.”

Pressing further against the chair, Poe looked at the restraints and realized they were still branches, the bark digging against his wrists and ankles, slowly wrapping around his stomach.  
“No, that’s not what I said,” Poe said.

“All you are is a waste of time. This mission of yours wasted the Resistance’s time and security. How is the Resistance’s best pilot only good at crashing and getting captured? You’ve become nothing but a nuisance.”

“You’re wrong,” Poe snapped. “It’s not like that. I’m not like that.”

“But you are, pilot,” Ren said as he circled. “You’re still on Jakku while your droid has managed to leave. You’ll be left behind, left to waste away just like your mother. How sad.”

Poe’s face blanched, his jaw snapping shut. The sound of Ren’s shoes on the floor paused, stopping just behind Poe’s left side.

“It hurts, doesn’t it. Being powerless.”

The air seemed to have left Poe’s lungs. He tried to find it but all that came to him were short, panicked breaths. 

Kylo Ren stood in front of Poe, leaning in close. His voice was soft as it filtered through. “That’s all you are right now, Poe Dameron. Powerless.”

Poe saw parts of his reflection in the silver lines along Ren’s mask. He saw the fear he had felt when his mother looked him in the eyes that day.

* * *

Poe’s eyes snapped open, scrunching them when the touch of smoke grazed by. Coughing, Poe tried to get up but was stopped again by the straps. Straining his neck as he lifted his head, Poe looked around the broken U-wing.

Paneling was broken off in a few places, wires poking out and smoke escaping through the cracks. Even more poured out from the cockpit, though Poe couldn’t lift his head any higher for a better look.

Dropping his head, thumping against the table, Poe laid still for a moment. His insides weren’t any less twisted than before, clenched by his dreams with a gloved fist.

Poe writhed and struggled, pulling against the straps. Hoping, straining, Poe hadn’t thrown his body into such a fit since he was a child. The anger, shame, fear, whatever was bundled inside of Poe he threw towards the straps.

“Come on, you son of a— Ah!” Poe yelped as he fell to the ground, biting back a swore from the jarring impact. Tears sprung to the corner of his eyes, and he ignored the temptation to curl up into a ball.

“I hate everything,” Poe muttered, working up to his hands and knees. The heat was coming off in waves from the paneling along the interior, prodding at him. When he tried to pull his right leg underneath him, a sharp pain stopped Poe from bending it.

“I’m alright,” Poe said, clearing his throat as he tried not to breath in the swelling fumes. But they caught in his throat and Poe coughed, raising his arm to his mouth. After the brief fit, he ran a hand over his face and through his hair half-heartedly.

One good leg. Well, one working leg. He could do this.

Reaching up for the side of the platform he had been secured to, Poe kept his weight off of his bad leg and scooted closer to the edge. He drove up with his good leg while using his hands, and collapsed over the table as he made it back onto his feet.

Part of Poe wanted to close his eyes there, half-strewn across the metal surface in the middle of the wrecked, burning, broken U-wing. Poe remembered the sleek exterior, something he’d drool over at this point, the sun hitting the painted blue and gleaming with a shine that only shows through love. It was in such good condition— 

It had been in good condition.

Poe snapped back up, keeping a stable arm on the table as he studied the interior. The sidedoor centered in the middle of the ship was wide open. And if the door was there— Poe’s eyes went from the side entrance, to the empty cockpit, towards there! Yes, there!

He grit his teeth and held tight to whatever offered stability as he hobbled over. A harsh pain struck his leg, and a few steps fumbled with his weight and buckled. By the time he reached the side, his shirt clung to his skin and stretched wide with each breath he took, but Poe stopped short of collapsing as he reached the comms.

His left hand fastened around the mic to the communications system, refusing to let go as he collected his breath. From what he could see, the system appeared to have been spared the damages of the crash. Poe eyed it over before looking out at the desert through the side door. There were a few small pieces of debris that Poe could see, mostly from one of the wings. But no people, no stormtroopers, no sound of approaching aircraft.

Poe stared uneasily for another second before his free hand went towards the knobs. Grazing over them, he held his breath and turned on the power.

The comss fizzled, static reaching through the mic. Poe listened in amazement. Tentatively, Poe adjusted the signals, working towards a frequency, when his fingers stilled.

If he sent a message out to the Resistance, what was to stop the First Order from tracking the signal from either end?

“A waste of time,” Ren had said. Poe’s thumb tapped the receiver, interrupting the static.

This signal wasn’t secure, not within the Resistance standards. Someone could be listening, waiting, ready to hear his voice and send out the order, the Resistance would have no preparation.

BB-8 had made it off-planet. They had the message, they had help; they had Finn. There was a chance for them.

An odd spurt of noise cut through the receiver and the static evaporated. The lights shut off along the comms system. Poe stared at it, his thumb still pushing the receiver to no avail. He flicked the power switch, but no sound or static came out.

The receiver slipped from Poe’s hand. The comms system stared back at him in silence. He did not move.

First his hand slammed against the wall above the system. Then again. Then again. Then Poe lost count and he was back to an unmoving mess, his hand red and stinging in pained waves.

Absolutely fucking helpless.

Panting, Poe shook his head and leaned it against the wall. The smoke had begun to clear but the metal was still hot. A fire could break out with the right broken wiring. Large enough to swallow the ship’s remains. Could even explode. That’d be fun.

Turning his head, Poe idly stared at the thick smoke pouring from the cockpit. Then he squinted. He strained his eyes and latched onto the faint outline.

Limping towards the cockpit, Poe focused hard on the undefined mass before making it to the doorway. Reaching inside, his fingers grazed fabric and Poe held on, grabbing a handful. Using both hands, Poe pulled at the person’s body and tried to drag them out of the cockpit.

The weight on his leg was, to put it simply, not good. Or, bad. Or, painful. Or, excruciating. He wasn’t quite sure if limbs could spontaneously fall off, but there was a first time for everything.

Their body was difficult to move over the chair, but Poe managed to hook his arms beneath theirs and haul them out. Slowly, he dragged both of them outside of the ship and clear from the smoke, his feet stumbling as he left the metal platform and sank into the sand. He carried them a few more feet before dropping them and collapsing onto the hot earth.

Catching his breath, Poe straightened his leg out in attempt to appease the aching. His eyes went from the empty surroundings to the co-pilot.

She looked angry unconscious. As if she had been frozen mid-fight with a swarm of bees or something by the way she frowned. Soot was smudged over her face in several spaces, but she didn’t look severely injured. The worst was probably in her lungs from the smoke inhalation.

Poe lightly beat a fist against his forehead. Saving the enemy. What a dummy.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers! It has been a bit since the last update, my apologies! I had to leave from writing for a bit to focus on finishing up my semester at school in a non-failing fashion. But it's summer, and so we're back! Thank you for sticking around, I hope you enjoy where the adventure continues to go!

He watched the ship burn itself away, dark smoke pouring from the doorway and climbing to the sky. Poe took another sip from the water, the bin behind him warm against his back. His other hand tapped on the blaster resting on his thigh.

The woman laid out a couple meters away. Her hands legs were bound by the straps from the table. Poe had dragged her underneath a piece of debris that provided enough shade over her face.

His tapping increased.

The smoke trails were a clear marker. Wouldn’t take long for scavengers or any other being with a brain to head this way.

Poe scratched at his jaw. His mind couldn’t adjust to the lull in pace he was caught in. Marelle was gone for now at least. Sihtal wasn’t on board so they must’ve left him behind.

Or killed him. Poe scratched his head, winding his fingers through his hair. His scalp was warm, the dark locks coated in sweat. Part of him was tired. No, exhausted. Maybe something even worse than that. He couldn’t think of the word for it. 

No current way to reach the Resistance. The First Order still around. Poe looked over at the woman. 

He checked the horizon, grabbed his blaster, and stood up.

She was unconscious, or really good at faking. Poe nudged her with the toe of his boot.

“Hey, lady.”

She didn’t budge. Poe pressed further.

“Hey, I got no patience for this.” Still nothing. “And water.”

An eyelid opened. It locked onto Poe’s face. She grimaced and coughed, a slight groan following from the back of her throat. 

“You got that water?” She rasped.

Poe bent down and unscrewed the lid. Bringing the bottle to her lips, the metal canister was warm against his fingers.

When she finished, Poe capped the canister and sat down beside her. Her eyes examined the scrap metal above her and glanced over at Poe. There was a maturity caught in the lines of her face now that she was conscious.

“Marelle hasn’t come back?” She asked.

“He jumped out of the ship,” Poe said, a frown passing over his face as he remembered the lieutenant standing at the door. Him and his weird smile. “So not yet, even if he’s still alive.”

She shrugged. “It’s his thing.”

“So,” Poe said, “if you guys aren’t First Order, what do you want with me?”

“Who says we’re not?”

“The armor your friends wore. Different materials. Good from a distance but doesn’t blend so well up close. Not the standard uniformity I’ve seen before.”

“Maybe that’s the point.”

“It’s not.”

“Maybe it’s not,” she said. “But you don’t know for sure. That’s why you’re asking, isn’t it?”

“Humor me, then.”

“There’s a bounty, for one. And you’ve upset several people. It’s not wild to assume some want to take you down, Commander.”

“But you didn’t shoot to kill,” Poe said. “So who else knows I’m down here?”

Her eyes darted away from Poe’s face, her lips forming a tight line. Poe sighed. “So that means no one good.”

Shaking his head, Poe rose to his feet. The feeling of her eyes on him didn’t leave as he walked away and began filling his pack with the supplies he had ‘borrowed’ from the ship. There were a few water containers, some meal packets, extra rounds for when the blaster ran out. The pack itself he had taken out of a personal cabinet.

It’s not like anyone else would be using it anytime soon.

“Are you leaving?” she finally asked. 

Poe glanced over at her, confusion sitting on his brow. “As opposed to staying around here? I’ve got places to be. I don’t have time to deal with you or your weirdly strong friend. Not to mention the secret employer.”

Walking closer, the limp evident in his steps, Poe looked down at her. “You’re welcome to hang tight here until the scavengers come. You might get luckier than me, but I’m feeling like this planet sucks anybody’s luck right out of the air.”

Poe turned on his heel and headed towards the tail end of the ship. He waved a hand over his shoulder, aware that she might not catch it from her current position on the ground. “There’s some water in one of the bins if you need it while you wait, pal!”

* * *

The muscles in his legs ached as he climbed dune after dune. They burned just like the rest of his body, the sun unrelenting as it hung low in the sky. 

The coloring on his right leg had faded thanks to the bacta, but there was still a sharp pain every time Poe’s foot struck the sand. The grains would sink and shift while he tried to find his footing, and more than once Poe stumbled to his hands and knees. But the rebel pilot refused a reprieve before getting back up.

Reaching the top of the current dune he had scaled, Poe cautioned a glance back towards the crashed U-wing. The smoke tower had softened into a translucent gray, vanishing by the time it scraped the upper atmosphere.

He didn’t spot any signs of scavengers, but it wouldn’t be long until they swarmed the spot like flies. Looking forward, Poe chanced a quick glance towards the setting star. If he had his directions right, he should be able to reach Niima Outpost. 

Although Poe wasn’t sure how far out they were. Maybe too far. Maybe there’d be no scavengers. Not until it was too late.

Poe sighed. He exhaled the desert air and took his time descending the sandy slope. Stopping to think hurt his head too much. He needed to move.

Night time crept over the dunes and wrung out the fading blues of the sky until distant stars and planets hung there. The hairs on Poe’s arm stood tall as the world around him grew cold, the warmth beneath his feet seeping further and further down.

The shipwreck had become a speck by the time Poe allowed himself to look back again. Darkness overwhelmed the fading smoke trail. Rubbing at his eyes, Poe walked a few more meters before he sat down. 

Dropping quickly onto the sand, Poe grit his teeth as he stretched out his leg. He knew no doctor that would recommend walking mindlessly on a leg that looked like his, but it had sounded pretty good earlier. 

It was like his leg was caught in the jaws of an animal, their teeth clamped down. Hell, his whole body. Like something gnawing away at him.

Slipping his pack off, Poe took a sip from one of the water canisters before falling back. Grains of sand quickly clung to the back of his head.

Part of him wanted to keep moving. He didn’t want to lie there and feel the gears in his head spinning. But his body needed rest, and the throbbing of his injuries was almost rhythmic, attempting to lull him to sleep.

He kept his eyes on the stars. The ache inside his rib cage rattled around. How was he any better off than when this catastrophe had started?

Catastrophe. Poe almost scoffed aloud. Sounded dramatic when he put it that way. A frown began to form on Poe’s face as he stared at the sky. He couldn’t think of how else to phrase it. Bad luck? Tragedy? Normal day? Poe closed his eyes.

He’d give anything for a normal day. Back on base with Jess and Snap. Flying. 

Poe latched onto the memories. It hurt, it really hurt, but if Poe was scared about the other memories, he was terrified of where his dreams would take him. Maybe he was a coward, the way he imagined Kylo Ren circling the dark edges of unconsciousness. Powerless in his dreams.

A huff of indignation passed through Poe’s lips. He sat up quickly, groaning as his pains caught up with him. His hands fidgeted in his lap while he stared at his pack. Poe looked to his left, then his right. 

Tentatively, Poe raised his left hand. Fingers slowly uncurling, he focused on the pack. His heart was pounding in his chest, filling in the noise in his ears. The nerves in his system were well-worn. Still, he felt on edge. Poe closed his eyes and tried to calm down.

All the dreams, all the memories. There was a reason he was able to break free from Ren’s grasp back on that Star Destroyer. He remembered the feeling of the branches of the Tree curling around him, guiding him. Softening the pain that had been dealt only moments before. He had to push aside those thoughts out here, the new feelings that poured out from the rift Kylo had formed.

Poe leaned into the feeling now. As if he was leaning against the rough bark of the Tree, the sound of wind distant in his ears. His breathing slowed down, even breaths entering and leaving his lungs.  
When his eyes opened, the pack hung over a meter in the air.

* * *

Sihtal’s dagger laid a little ways away from his hand, out of reach. The air withered in his lungs as Marelle’s hand pressed harder against his windpipe.

“All you had to do was stay back. You were complying,” Marelle shook his head, disappointment clear on his face, “I thought we had a great thing going here, Kaleesh.”

“I’m afraid the pilot and I made a deal,” Sihtal ground out. His hands pulled against Marelle’s grip, fighting for what little slack he could earn. “I did not lie to you back at the outpost.”

Marelle huffed, looking over his shoulder. Even from the ground Sihtal could spot the plumes of smoke reaching the atmosphere.

“I was very optimistic this would be going better than it has.” Marelle sighed, shaking his head. “You know, I don’t have time to run around and deal with all of this.” His grip tightened around Sihtal’s throat. “I tried to be kind but look where that got me.”

“Welcome to Jakku, lieutenant.” Sihtal’s hand was full of sand as he tossed it into the soldier’s eyes. The lieutenant shouted as his hands went to scrub at his eyes, a snarl on his face. Sihtal knocked him off and scrambled towards his dagger.

Whirling around Sihtal held the dagger close to his chest, his body tense as he watched Marelle from the small distance he had created. The lieutenant was still scrubbing at his eyes, growling from the irritation.

Sihtal flipped the dagger in his hand and charged. Marelle, partially blinded as he was, had the good sense to jump back from the dagger. But Sihtal followed quickly, slashing the dagger towards the lieutenant’s middle. Fabric tore as the blade made contact, tearing through his undershirt and skin.

Marelle grabbed at Sihtal’s arm, pulling him off-balance as he tried to knock the dagger out of his hand. Sihtal aimed the tip of the blade towards Marelle’s chest but the officer kept him from driving it forward. The two were locked against each other, grip fighting grip as Sihtal tried to stab him.

Suddenly Marelle’s stance shifted, and Sihtal was unable to draw back from his grip as he drove his knee into Sihtal’s stomach. His grip on the dagger did not waver but he hunched over from the blow, attempting to soothe the rising panic in his chest. 

Fear had not touched Sihtal in a long time.

Marelle went to make the same blow but Sihtal caught it this time, doubling down his own grip on Marelle and spinning the two. It worked, keeping him off-balance. Seeing the opportunity, Sihtal stopped and threw all his force behind the hand holding the dagger, burying it part-way into his chest.

The lieutenant howled and withdrew, each man freed from their hold on the other. Glancing down, Marelle’s hand grazed over his wounds in examination. He applied pressure to the stab wound, taking in a sharp breath in response.

Focusing on Sihtal, he nodded. “Not bad. Not many people have done that in awhile.”

Sihtal adjusted his grip on his dagger, standing a couple meters away from the lieutenant. “Would it be too optimistic of me to propose a draw?”

Lieutenant Marelle looked back towards the shipwreck, then back towards Sihtal. “Just a bit, friend. If we’re both wanting to head that way, I’m not expecting us to go together.”

“Are you a fan of bloodshed, lieutenant?”

Marelle smiled. “Bloodshed and I have been in a long-term relationship since I could walk.”

“Neither you nor I know if either of our compatriots are alive over there.”

“Oh I’d bet my life both of our compatriots are doing just fine. Seems like neither one is keen on dying anytime soon.” His smile had not left him.

“As am I.” Sihtal stood a bit taller, dropping his arms. 

“You willing to die for your man over there?” Marelle asked. “You barely know him, after all. I wouldn’t blame you if, right now, you turned around and left. Wouldn’t chase you, wouldn’t kill you. You could go.”

“He came back for me,” Sihtal said. “And we have a deal. I intend to see it through. Are you willing to die for your friend?”

“It’s not her that I’d be dying for.” Marelle grinned.

The lieutenant ran forward. Sihtal blocked his right hook with his arm, bringing his dagger down towards Marelle’s arm. Marelle pulled back, landing a follow-up hit from his left against Sihtal’s chest. 

Knocked a step back, Sihtal lashed out with his right, grazing Marelle’s jaw before he ducked down. Throwing his knee at the lieutenant’s face, he was blocked by both hands. Two more blows in quick succession hit him in the abdomen, driving Sihtal back further. 

Gritting his teeth, Sihtal turned on the offense. He kicked at Marelle with his right leg, earning a quick jump back. He pushed forward, his second kick blocked by Marelle’s arm. On the third, Sihtal spotted Marelle’s hands raising to block. Dropping his knee back, Marelle was unable to block Sihtal’s dagger slashing across his head.

Marelle’s hands went to his head on instinct and Sihtal kicked out, his foot meeting the lieutenant’s chest before knocking him backwards. 

The gash on his face ran from his timple to just over his brow, beads of blood trailing downward. He worked to keep his balance as Sihtal progressed, determination firm in his grip.

Marelle huffed, dodging Sihtal’s next advance with the dagger. He couldn’t stop the blood from passing over his eye, keeping it shut. 

Suddenly Marelle spun, his hand sinking into the sand as he used it as his anchor, kicking as he twisted around. His quick blow landed on Sihtal’s side, and as Marelle landed back on his feet he dove for the Kaleesh’s legs.

Sihtal could not prevent Marelle from tackling him to the ground, but he kept his wits close to his chest. Legs kicking against Marelle’s hold, Sihtal flipped the dagger in his hand and brought it down. The blade sunk deep into the lieutenant’s backside, and he cried out. 

Relinquishing his grip on Sihtal’s legs, his hands went towards the dagger. Sihtal watched as the lieutenant’s eyes flicked back towards his own. Something twitched in the man’s face, and he stopped fighting. Sihtal did not let go of the dagger.

They sat there for a moment in the odd silence, heavy breathing on both sides. 

“Too late to walk back towards your offer?” Lieutenant Marelle asked with a wince. 

“That depends upon you,” Sihtal offered, unmoved. Marelle began to raise his shoulders as if to shrug but quickly stopped with a pained look. He studied Sihtal.

“You always willing to chat with guys you’ve got your dagger sunk into?”

“The last one did not have the opportunity by the time I had him,” Sihtal said. 

“Maybe it’s an every-other type situation,” Marelle suggested with a grin.

Marelle moved forward, the dagger digging through his flesh. Sihtal cursed as he tried to scramble back, pulling the dagger out of the lieutenant’s back and stabbing again. He managed two more strikes before Marelle had both arms pinned. 

His right knee pinned Sihtal’s left arm while his hands worked on Sihtal’s right, trying to shake the dagger out of his grip. Sihtal kept his eyes on Marelle, the man breathing heavy but smiling all the same. 

“You’ve been a great opponent,” Marelle said as he broke Sihtal’s grip on the dagger. As Sihtal lost his hold he tossed the blade as it slipped from his fingers, out of reach from the both of them. Restraining Sihtal’s right arm with his left knee, Marelle stared down at the Kaleesh with delight.

“Really, great.” His fist slammed against Sihtal’s mask. Then another. Sihtal writhed underneath the lieutenant as his blows landed, trying to shake him off.

When his fists beat against the Kaleesh’s head for another blow, knuckles and bone cracking against each other, the mask shattered. There was no reprieve from Marelle as he continued, scattering and smashing the fragments with each blow following the other.

“I’m almost glad you stopped our ship on our way out.” he said. 

Suddenly, his weight disappeared off of Sihtal. The Kaleesh tried to create more distance, the fear in his chest taking lead. Blood caked his red skin, his entire face swollen and mutilated. He turned onto his stomach, dragging himself away. Sihtal tried to get his hands and knees beneath him but he could not find the strength, his arms shaking.

“Almost,” the voice said before a sharp pain erupted from Sihtal’s side. He collapsed, wheezing as he felt the metal of his blade digging further into his flesh. A rough hand eased Sihtal onto his back. Through his cracked eyelids he could make out the form of the lieutenant.

“Sorry about the mask again.” A beat of silence as the hand patted Sihtal on the shoulder. “You really would’ve been willing to talk it over, huh? Come to an arrangement?” 

The pain hadn’t begun to diminish when the blade was wrenched out of Sihtal’s side. Crying out, Sihtal grit his teeth and tried to focus on Marelle. 

“That’s kind of dumb. But I like you Sihtal. You’re chivalrous. Very few places left where you can find something like that. Out here in Jakku? Wouldn’t have guessed it.”

Slowly, Sihtal’s hand lifted off the ground, his fingers wrapping around the lieutenant’s arm. The desert grew quiet as Sihtal gained Marelle’s attention.

“If you are going to kill me, lieutenant, I implore you to get on with it. Neither of us have time for conversations such as these.”

There was a beat of silence, then laughter erupted. The rough hand patted Sihtal’s. 

“I’ll do you one better, Red. And trust me, my partner would hate me for this.” Sihtal felt the rough hand lift his own off of Marelle’s arm. Setting it on the ground, Sihtal’s hand instinctively curled around the blade’s handle as it was placed into his palm.

“I’ve killed a lot of people. And I know that won’t be stopping anytime soon. But you’re not my mission today, Kaleesh. You’ve made a good impression, so I’m gonna let you off the hook this time by giving me a head start to that ship. This is your last chance to turn around and go home with your life and what’s left of your honor, or whatever code it is you are clinging to right now. Forget Dameron, he’ll be gone soon enough.”

The lieutenant stood tall, towering over Sihtal. He hissed as he tentatively rolled his shoulder. “Hell of a fight,” he sighed before walking away. 

Sihtal listened to the sounds of his steps shifting in the sand before they vanished.


	9. Chapter Nine

“Holy shit,” Poe said. His arm was frozen in place. The pack hovered in the air, as if held by a string. “Holy shit.”

Poe tried to keep his focus in check as the shock ran through his system.

Slowly, Poe lowered his arm, keeping his hand locked onto the pack. The hairs on his arm stood as the pack followed, settling itself back onto the ground. 

For awhile, Poe sat there, speechless. His eyes went from the pack to his hand, then back, passing over both several times before his mind returned to him.

“Holy shit,” Poe whispered. 

He placed his hands on his lap, an uncertainty seizing the pilot. The night sky felt heavy on his shoulders. 

Poe knew people who could use the Force. He knew General Organa could, he had met Luke Skywalker all those years ago. For him, the closest he had ever gotten to believing was as a kid, pretending to be a Jedi when he had lost his toy X-wing. 

Poe scratched at his head. Did this mean he had to be a Jedi now? 

Taking a breath, Poe scoffed and shook his head. He couldn’t think about stuff like that right now. His eyes rested on his hands sitting still on his lap. Curling his fingers in and out, Poe forced himself to ignore the newly discovered realm of possibilities. He needed to rest.

Not like that would happen easily, Poe thought as he grabbed the pack and put it under his head. Poe wove his fingers together, lightly resting them atop his chest. He trained his eyes back on the sky.

He could freak out about this with the General when he got back. 

His thumbs tapped against each other. Several times, Poe closed his eyes only to open them and stare a moment later. Poe’s entire being refused to sit still.

Poe groaned, sitting back up. He could already feel the heavy bags that would hang under his eyes. Slipping the pack back onto his shoulders, Poe carefully stood back up. The blood rushed to his legs, the pain already circulating.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it, this is dumb,” Poe muttered. But the pilot couldn’t sleep. Poe tried to keep his breathing easy as he clambered up the next dune. He stopped on the top, looking over the endless desert.

Poe ran a hand over his face. How the fuck does this even work? 

He stumbled down the rest of the hill, swearing as he landed hard on his right leg. 

How is someone supposed to deal with learning they have magical powers while they’re in the middle of being stranded? When they’re alone and everyone around them keeps dying and all he can do is get shot and carried around?

He swore with each step as he floundered up and down the second hill, a layer of sweat on his forehead and soaking through his shirt.

Poe’s leg gave out on the next dune. He careened over the top, unable to catch himself as he barreled down the hillside. Sand scattered, sticking to his skin and hair. His momentum died and he stopped almost a meter at the foot of the incline.

Lying on his back, the supplies inside his pack grinding against his spine, Poe tried to temper the frustration. Failing to do so, Poe slammed his hand against the earth several times. Pins and needles filled his hand when he stopped. He wanted to shout but he kept the noise in his chest.

Force-users were powerful. And Poe couldn’t even walk down a hill. 

Poe groaned again. Fatigue began to set in, but Poe couldn’t sit still. First he sat up, and slowly he made his way back onto his feet. 

He felt dizzy. And sick. He wasn’t sure which one was contributing to the other. Taking a couple steps, Poe had to catch himself from falling back down. His limbs yearned to rest, but Poe refused. 

“It’s just one foot in front of the other,” Poe mumbled, working at an old man’s pace. He kept his eyes on a specific route of focus, looking back and forth from his feet to the desert ahead of him. At the top, Poe scanned the dark horizon. There was still no sign of civilization.

He stayed there for a moment, looking out at the vast stretch of desert. There was a beauty to it in the night, when it wasn’t trying to burn your skin off. The dunes were dark hills under the navy sky. Starlight dangling clear overhead.

Poe’s head was craned back, taking in the full view of the sky. He didn’t have to think when he saw all that. Thousands of planets and stars, only a starship away. BB-8 was out there somewhere. Finn too. Poe knew it in his bones.

Taking a deep breath, Poe ran a hand through his hair. The tension that had held tight at the back of his neck and shoulders amidst the whirlwind of the past few days tentatively released its grip. Rolling his shoulders, Poe watched the sky for a moment more before he made his way down the slope.

When his foot hit level ground, Poe eased himself back down. He took a long swig from his water. Sitting quietly, Poe soaked in the silence of the night.

It was the first time it truly felt like Poe had caught his breath. Caked in sweat and sand, his wounds aggravated, his body exhausted. He’d been running on fumes. 

Taking his pack and setting it behind him, Poe laid back down.

Maybe part of him had always known. Just a fragment. Or maybe not. Poe couldn’t say. If he took his time, rifled through all the memories, the missions, he could find dots. Maybe even connect them. 

Gradually, Poe closed his eyes. His fingers twitched on top of his chest, wariness passing through his system. But he needed the rest. Breathing slowly, Poe forced himself into a simple rhythm. His body began to adjust to the slower cadence, winding down. Exhaustion guided his tensions away, until Poe was left to sink into the night.

* * *

“Run into trouble while I was gone?” Marelle called out to Rheez. She was outside of the burnt remains of their U-wing, running through supplies. 

A smaller ship sat on the outskirts of the wreckage. Marelle only threw a quick glance towards the two scrappers lying on the ground a few meters away.

“We ran into trouble the moment you didn’t kill that guy,” Rheez said as she kept her eyes trained on the bin she dug through.

He tossed his soaking shirt into the sand, walking towards another bin. He had traveled the rest of the day and through the night to make it back. The sun was low in the morning sky. Opening the clasps on the bin, Marelle dug around for a new shirt.

“Is that trouble gone?” 

There was a brief pause in the sound of Marelle’s rummaging before he continued.

Rheez finally looked over at Marelle after he remained silent. She stared a beat longer. Tilting her head back, Rheez groaned. “You’re kidding.”

Marelle wore a sheepish grin. “What can I say? I’m a softy for honorable men. Can’t say he feels the same about me.”

“Can’t say you’re honorable, Marelle. What’d you do to him instead, then?”

“I may have smashed his face in, broke his mask, and stabbed him.”

“And the look in his eyes after you did all that?”

Marelle shrugged. “He told me to go ahead and kill him—”

“—Which you should’ve—” 

“—Which I considered, but his eyes were terrified, Rheez. He’s a worthy warrior, but he fears death. And now he fears me.”

Rheez studied Marelle another moment before nodding. “Alright. But I swear it, if that Kaleesh comes back around causing trouble I will shoot him before you have the chance to save his ass again.”

Marelle raised his hands, an innocent expression on his face. “He’s all yours, Rheez.”

Finding what he was looking for, Marelle pulled the shirt free from the rest of the clutter in the bin. Sliding it on, Marelle caught the water Rheez through his way. The two stood close as Marelle took one long draw.

He sighed in satisfaction as he finished drinking. He offered the rest to Rheez, who shook her head.

“Your systems in working order?” Rheez asked.

“I’ve been running on all cylinders,” Marelle clapped Rheez on the back. “I’m drenched and dehydrated. I’m doing great. What happened with Dameron?”

“He managed to get out when the ship crashed. I was out from impact, but it looks like flyboy’s as sweet as he looks. Pulled me out from the cockpit. Place is a charred mess now. And he left me tied down here, he knew scrappers would come. I think he was hoping I’d get scooped up.”

“Thoughtful,” Marelle said as he took another sip. His eyes went from the scrappers to the ship. It looked like if it even thought about breaking the atmosphere it would shatter. He tipped his head towards it. “That our new ride?”

“You help me get everything on board and it will be; till we find something better.”

“Then let’s go,” Marelle said. 

They piled the crates, stuffed with an odd amount of ammunition, food, and water, along the interior of the shuttlecraft. Checking over the remaining wreckage, Marelle and Rheez left the U-wing behind and shut the loading door for the shuttle.

Entering the cockpit, Marelle ignored the cramped space and settled into the pilot’s seat. He had seen enough cockpits to know how to start the ship, flipping several switches across the main switchboard.

“You know which direction he took off from?” Marelle asked, the shuttle humming to life beneath them.

“East by the looks of it, my guess would be he’s trying to head back to Niima Outpost. Needs a way off this planet, that’s one of the few places he’ll find the chance to do it.”

Marelle nodded. “He has to be on less than one foot by now. We’ve got the advantage. We’ll find him.”

The shuttle rattled as it rose into the air. The two looked at each other in uncertainty.

“If this thing doesn’t break apart,” Rheez muttered, knocking twice on the side panel.

* * *

Poe’s feet moved deftly on the sand, not one grain displaced with each step. Trees speckled the vast landscape, the roots breaching the surface every now and then like a woven net resting underneath the earth.

There was music in the air, sounding distant to Poe’s ears. He strained to listen. For a second his mother’s voice dwindled in and out of the melody, a soft hum. 

As Poe continued to walk, the leaves stuck to their branches rattled. Their shaking grew so fast that Poe’s pace began to slow as he watched. The music faded away, pulled back into the depths of the sky. 

Millions of leaves snapped away from the trees and danced in the sky. Poe thought they looked like a massive flight of birds. They twirled and flew at an amazing speed, streaming to the left before dropping and careening to the right. Poe could barely spot a star past their formation.

Rooted to his spot, Poe didn’t flinch as the leaves joined into a great mass before spiraling straight towards him. Their form was like a vortex, sharp and deadly.

Poe lifted his arm and opened his hand, his palm facing the sky. The tip of the vortex landed on his palm, resting at the center. As soon as it touched Poe’s skin, the mass exploded, the life leaving the leaves and sending them to rain down. 

Poe’s eyes looked over the mess that surrounded him before looking at his hand again. A single leaf sat there, small and green.

The trees and the leaves vanished, save for the one in his hand. Poe gently curled his fingers around it. 

Looking back up, Poe spotted two silhouettes atop a hill. A great tree that stretched far above the figure resting beneath its shade. Poe stared at them for a moment before taking a step forward.

Poe squinted as the sunlight hit his eyes. He groaned as he sat up, the heat of the earth leaving his backside. Scrubbing his face, Poe lightly shook his head. He felt a bit hazy, parts of his mind slow to wake up. Though his leg was faster, sore and battered from his determined pace.

Going through his pack, Poe grabbed a portion packet and the water canister. He ate fast, working through the chalky texture with each bite. Finishing it off, he took a few sips from the canister before slipping it back into the pack. Examining his supplies, Poe still had three more water canisters left and plenty of the slim portion packets. If he rationed them right he could make it through the desert alright, as long as he made it back into town. 

Poe went to stand and immediately regretted it. Waves of pain erupted from the muscles in his leg. Wincing, he leaned as much of his weight as he could onto the other one. 

“Nothing new,” Poe told himself. He adjusted the straps on the pack, taking a few steps forward. 

He kept the pace slow, trying not to push himself too much. Poe was trying to stay optimistic that there would be no permanent damage by the time he returned to base. 

Every now and then Poe would look at his hands. Wiggle his fingers. They didn’t feel any different than before.

Looking out, Poe raised his hand to shield his eyes. There was something reflecting light in the distance. It was a bit to his left, not out of the way of his direction. Poe looked up at the empty blue sky, the sun yet to reach its highest point.

He surveyed the surrounding area once more, not spotting any ships in the distance or any other structure. 

Poe’s curiosity slowly carried him over, the new object becoming clearer as Poe drew near. He stopped a couple meters out, taking in what he realized to be a downed AT-AT. A whistle escaped him at the sight of it. 

They looked clunky as hell upright, certainly didn’t look any better down here. 

Getting closer, Poe noticed a tarp caught on the side of the machine’s torso. Lifting it up, Poe wasn’t surprised by the hole torn into the metal. He was surprised to find more inside there than simply dust and skeletons.

Poe took a step inside, keeping the tarp open.

The scratch marks drew Poe’s eyes first. They covered the walls, their numbers making up for their faint appearance in the dim light. His eyes went back towards the tarp, listening for a moment before he released the tarp and stepped further inside.

His fingers grazed over the ticks, feeling the grooves worn into the wall. He looked over at the small hammock nestled in a corner, the blanket a crumpled ball on the end. 

A smile slipped onto Poe’s face when he spotted the pilot figure sitting on a ledge. Picking it up, it was light in his hands, made out of scraps of different fabric.

Different pieces of electronics and hardware were scattered across the AT-AT’s interior. Stacks of junk in one corner, another only a meter away. A spurt of giddiness was in Poe’s chest when he found a flight computer from a Y-wing jammed towards the rear end.   
He hobbled over to it almost too quickly, inspecting its exterior. It was in decent shape, salvaged with care from what Poe could see. And functioning, to Poe’s delight as the screen flickered to life. 

Checking the history logs, several ship schematics and language programs pulled up. Poe was impressed further by the flight simulation record. There was a distinct shift in improvement from the earlier records to the most recent. Speeders, Corellian freighters, even an X-wing was listed on the simulation record.

Poe forced himself to turn off the system, ignoring his temptation to run a few flight simulations for himself. That would ring out what remaining sadness still troubled him to the surface.

Doing one final sweep of the shelter, Poe began to spot the signs of abandonment. The flight simulator record, which showed consistent usage, stopped a few days ago. If Poe was right in how many days he’d been down here. 

Headed towards the exit, Poe stopped by the little pilot sitting on the ledge. He picked it up again, looking over it carefully. Maybe he was a little fixated with it. There was something odd and sweet about finding it in Jakku, in the dilapidated remains of Imperial weaponry. So he decidedly seated it in a small pocket at the front of his pack before walking back out into the daylight.

The sky was as sharp and bright as it had been when Poe entered the AT-AT. Stretching his arms, Poe checked the sun, which almost touched the middle of the sky.

He patted the fallen leg of the AT-AT, walking past it. After one final glance over the machine, Poe headed back across the desert.

* * *

“Fly lower,” Rheez said. Her legs were stretched out onto the console, her eyes occasionally glancing out the side window. “How do you expect to spot him from all the way up here?”

“He’s a living smoke trail,” Marelle said, the shuttle dipping from his guidance.

“Can’t be a smoke trail if he’s got nothing to burn, metaphor man. He’s just one injured man trying not to die.”

“Aren’t we all?” Marelle muttered. Peering out the cockpit window, nothing of excitement had passed beneath them. All Jakku held was sand and the occasional scrap of metal unburied by the wind. 

“We could just leave,” Rheez offered. Marelle knew that neither of them had the intention of leaving without Commander Dameron in their stead, but that didn’t stop him from raising an eyebrow.

“And where would we go, Rheez?”

“Somewhere with not a single desert in sight.” 

“Right,” Marelle said. “Tatooine, then?”

Rheez punched his arm. “I might just have to ditch you for a personal vacation. No kriffin smartasses.”

Marelle hummed. “This might be the closest either of us get in terms of a vacation, Rheez.” He tapped his right leg with his knuckles. “Unless you count death.”

Rolling her eyes, Rheez leaned forward in her seat. “We find this guy we’ll get all the vacation time in the galaxy. You seeing anything?”

“No more than you,” Marelle said. 

“Maybe we should head towards Niima and wait him out. He’s got the supplies to make it. As long as he’s going in the right direction.”

“The Commander has made it this far, despite all efforts. When his luck runs out, we’ll get him and leave this junkyard.”

“You really have a way with words,” Rheez grinned. Shrugging, Marelle straightened in his chair.

“You know I mean it.”

There was a beat of silence as Rheez studied Marelle. She patted his shoulder.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a kudos or a comment below!


End file.
